


Different Angles

by Batkatbrown



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Anxiety, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Grumpy - Freeform, Hanzo Shimada has Anxiety, Jesse McCree has depression, Jesse wants Hanzo to kick his ass or kiss him, M/M, Old Men In Love, PTSD, Slow Burn, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Switch!Hanzo, Switch!Jesse, Yakuza, dragons are cats, first fanfic please be gentle, main relationship is McHanzo, smitten old men, they both have anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-09-24 00:10:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 48,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9690314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batkatbrown/pseuds/Batkatbrown
Summary: Hanzo pulled the sleeve on his left arm down to his wrist, hiding the reminder of his transgressions. That time of his life had been buried back in Hanamura with his father. The only thing good that had come from Hanamura was escaping with Genji to the states.And Him… he swallowed, focusing on slicing the carrots. The memories still came, shaken loose undoubtedly by the Cowman. The stranger from his youth, a cocky, punk running with a rough crowd. The arrogant way he walked down the street, head and shoulders taller than most. The glower of teenage rage making those eyes like beckons. The smell of gunpowder had clung to the man, bitter and sweet.Even now, years later, the longing swelled in his chest. For his cowboy... the firefighter Jesse McCree stirring up old things best left forgotten.Deals heavily with homophobia, both internal and external. Im a lesbian trying to portray this honestly





	1. Woah There, Darlin'

Hanzo breathed through his nose, pinching the bridge. This was just what he needed on a Sunday afternoon. A noisy, overcrowded 5-year-old’s birthday party. For anyone else, he would have never even opened the pink envelope with the invitation. 

“Uncle Haaaaanzo!” a heavily accented voice called up to him. Accompanied by a small hand tugging on the edge of his crisp white sleeve.

A faint smile graced is mouth. “Hello, Hana,” he stooped slightly offering his hand to the tiny Korean girl he was so fond of. 

Jack and Angela arrived as they shook solemnly before the girl was bouncing and leaping into Jack’s arms. “Good to see you could make it after all,” Angela smiled warmly, giving his hand the customary shake. He didn’t mind it from them.

“I know your work schedule has been nonstop,” Jack nodded understandingly, shifting Hana to his side and shaking his old friend’s hand.

“I would not miss such an important event,” the Japanese man’s eyes swept the backyard, taking in the festive decorations. If he was not mistaken, it was a western theme complete with cutout cardboard cacti wearing cowboy hats and several kids riding broomstick ponies. 

“Uncle Hanzo, uncle hanzo,” Hana bounced, getting his attention before leaning up and whispering something to jack. “I have a gift for you!”

The man laughed, covering his mouth before leaning over to Angela. The sweet woman also laughed, filling Hanzo with a flicker of trepidation. These there were always up to something devious when they got quiet.

“You three have fun, I’m going to step inside for a moment.” Her english had improved in the years they’d all been living in the states, almost no accent at all. She disappeared into the crowds, heading into the large carpenter style house. 

“Hana, it is your birthday.” Hanzo folded his arms, giving off an aura that kept the other happy party goers at arm’s distance. He could sense them wanting to talk to Jack and Hana. “I have heard you have been particularly good.” She nodded solemnly, sticking her arms out towards Hanzo and he took her after a moment. He had warmed to these types of touching and hugging. 

He looked down his nose at her, taking in her beaming face with a bit of cupcake icing on her cheek. She was well taken care of here. Jack and Angela had always wanted a family and he was glad they had adopted Hana two years ago. Many of the old Overwatch unit had settled down and had families. He had started an architect firm and grown it to a multimillion dollar corporation that spread across the globe. Even to his old homeland where he made frequent trips. The old habits died hard and the old family took up much of his limited free time.

The sharp tug on his hair tie got his attention, frowning as Hana gave the golden ribbon another firm yank. “I want pretty ribbon,” she huffed and Hanzo gently captured her hand and took it away from his ribbon. 

“I have something better for you,” He carefully set her down, taking a knee. He didn’t notice Angela approaching, ignoring as much of the party as he could. Vaguely he registered that there was awful twanging western music playing now. “Here, Ms Hana,” he pulled a long black velvet box and offered it to her. 

This was the moment he had come for, braving the crowds and screaming of children and the lack of sleep from working all night. Her eyes got huge as she opened the box. For a moment, she just stared and then screamed in joy. It made him wince but she kept making excited sounds and turned to show Jack and Angela.

It was her very own hairband of sorts, a custom made piece of jewelry with her favorite cartoon character in pink enamel. The angry bunny caught the light, pink silk ribbons fluttering. It was inscribed with a special message for her in her native tongue. 

He congratulated her in Korean and then Japanese, offering a small bow. He was intending to make his exit now. He needed sleep and possibly a Vicodin for the headache threatening to build. “I must go now, I have business to attend,” he started to straighten from his bow to the hosts before freezing.

“Welcome to the hoedown,” Angela’s laugh was punctuated by a cowboy hat being yanked down over his eyes.

“It’s the best part you can’t leave!” Hana grabbed his hand as the music picked up to a frenzy. “Sit by me, sit by me,” she insisted, dragging him into the heart of the backyard and through rows of spread out beach towels. 

The children seemed to know exactly what was happening, scrambling to get the best towels. A baited silence grew over them, parents chuckling in the background. Hanzo felt his cheeks heat slightly. He was the only adult forced to participate in the escapades. 

Reflexively he straightened his broad shoulders, chin rising proudly. The wind stirred his ribbon as a tumble weed bounced out from behind a simple red curtain. 

A sneer of distaste flickered over his mouth but with a vibrating Hana sitting next to him he endured. 

“It’s Hiiiiiiiiiiiiigh Noon!”

The voice was rich and smooth, southern accent exaggerated. Hanzo sighed through his nose, regretting his position in the front row with the birthday girl. And wearing this god awful prop hat. And then a very tall muscular man popped out from the curtain onto the makeshift stage of a large red rug. 

He swaggered forward, hands hooked into his large ammo belts, shiny plastic gun strapped to his thigh. “I’m Sherif McCree and I heard there were some dastardly outlaws causing trouble as this here birthday party.” A rush of children’s gasps was broken up by chuckles by the parents. “In fact, I heard that there is one particularly bad hombre, the leader of the Deadlock gang.”

A furious whisper rippled through the audience, looking at each other suspiciously and back at the adults. Hanzo’s stomach sunk. This was not good. He made the mistake of looking up past the brim of the wide hat and caught the cowman smirking at him. 

“Well, well, well,” He took a step towards the seated man. “It looks like my hunch might have been correct after all. The outlaw is somewhere at this party. I’m sure of it.” He pulled out the shiny toy gun, a nerf gun. “Good thing I’m the best shot in the West,” he flicked a pingpong ball into the air, taking a second to aim before nailing it with a nerfdart. 

A dark eyebrow rose, impressed despite himself as the cowman repeated the trick shot with another ball and then three, graduating to letting the children throw the balls for him. “Well, I can see I am with a regular gang of adventurers.” He crooned, crouching down by Hana. Hanzo looked away. Hana had the opposite reaction, leaping up, hands on her tiny hips. “You need help bringing down the criminals!” 

“Aren’t you a smart one, Darlin,” he chuckled and those dark brown eyes flicked over to Hanzo. “I bet you could help me bring down that horrible outlaw. Have you seen him?” the entertainer pulled out a small pistol nerf gun with a clip of darts. “He’s about 5’6, muscular fellow with a funny accent.” Hanzo groaned internally. “Black hair, about shoulder length. And the funny thing, sug’ ” he stood up, hands on his hips, face shadowed by his broad brim. “He wears this peculiar little thing in his hair, why I heard it was a ribbon.”

“Uncle Hanzo is the outlaw!” Hana screamed, understanding the game in a flash and whipping to point the gun at his face.

Hanzo glared daggers at the entertainer as he rolled to the side and to his feet. A nerf dart barely missed him. He was going to kill Jack and Angela, setting this all up. There was no time to think as Hana began unloading the clip at him. His body moved like water, flowing and dipping, straining the fabric of his shirt over broad shoulders.

“He’s trying to make an escape, I now deputize all ya’ll!” the cowman yelled, throwing nerf balls and slingshots out to the screaming children. The entertainer himself took his own gun, looking Hanzo dead in the eye and raised it. There was a challenge there that made Hanzo’s blood boil. 

“Hanzo, catch!” Jack’s laughing voice called out.

Hanzo whirled, rolling across the grass to avoid a barrage. He popped up, hand reaching for what Jack had thrown. A nerf bow and quiver full of arrows. It was pink and purple but he didn’t care. With a snarl, he turned and fired at the cowman. The bastard rolled to the side, red and gold serape billowing. Before he could get off another shot the children were on him. He gave a groan, leaping back. Dodging in and out of cover of the large oaks and birthday props. His glittery purple arrow grazed the cowboy’s side but didn’t bring him down. The horrible man just smirked, hammer fanning and sending a spray of darts his way.

In any other situation Hanzo would have refused to move from the towel, letting himself get pummeled. In fact he wanted to storm out in a fury after smacking the cowman around a bit. Or at the least knocking that flirtatious smirk off his face. There was also his dear Hana having the time of her life, running around shooting not only at him but at the parents and other children. 

The pack was swarming on him though, realizing they could simply overwhelm him and drag him down. Ignoring his body’s protests, he leapt at the nearest tree, scrambling up it with a grace he didn’t realize he still possessed.

There was a stand off as the kids threw their nerf balls and shot off rounds. He waited, dodging and shooting back here and there, even managing to get out a few lines refusing surrender. He made sure not to hit the children but he was definitely trying to shoot the entertainers face. The parents and children alike ate it up, even the cowman laughing and shooting at him occasionally.

He let Hana have her fun but when it seemed she was getting frustrated he leaned forward. Her dart took him dead in the chest with a loud pop and he grunted. “I have been defeated,” and slowly let himself fall forward, landing with a roll that made his back ache. He would be paying for this in the morning, if he ever saw it. 

Cool slightly sticky hands began to grab him, his face and hair. He endured it as Hana and the children confirmed their kill, screaming and racing to the cowman and their parents to brag of their success. 

Hanzo lay there, head aching and feeling slightly nauseous from the grime on his face and clothes. He really did need to take some time off work or at the last take a nap. With a groan he started to sit up, grateful the attention was no longer on him and the show was apparently over. His head swam and he put a hand down to steady himself.

“Woah there, Darlin’,” a warm voice spoke, startling the Japanese man. A large hand resting on his shoulder and a grinning face hovering at eye level. “You put on quite a show, that tumble was convincin’.”

Hanzo glared at the man, jerking himself away and to his feet. His cheeks were red. The cowman raised his hands, “Didn’ mean to startle ya,” he chuckled. He flashed a smile that was sure to make all the ladies swoon. “I don't often have a partner so committed. Ya must love the birthday girl somethin’ fierce.”

Hanzo’s icy expression thawed some. “Hana is very important to me.” He started to dust himself off, back and head aching in earnest. “Her parents, however, are going to regret this.”

 

* * *

 

Jesse McCree pulled back in surprise. “They didn’t tell ya you were goin’ t’be the outlaw, did they?” He put his hands on his hips, thumbs tucked into his belt. It wasn’t that unusual for the birthday girl’s parents to pick the outlaw from their own friends. They gave the subject the black cowboy hat and the briefing on his role. “Well shucks, that makes your performance even more impressive.” He laughed, relaxing now that his show was over and the kids were happily chasing each other around with the nerf toys. 

The man’s eyes narrowed, chin jerking higher. That peculiar hair ribbon blowing in the breeze. It was rather charming. “I was not told of my role.” The man seemed to realize he was still holding the bow and arrows. Looking at them as the blush crept up his ears.

“Let me take that from ya,” McCree grinned, reaching out to pull it from the smaller man’s hands. For a moment, their fingers brushed. “I never had anyone shoot this little toy like ya did.” He wasn’t flattering, this man had obviously trained with a real bow extensively. And he was a very handsome man. McCree shifted his weight, leaning just a little into the man’s space, smirking at those warm brown eyes.

“I am not surprised,” Hanzo’s voice was icy. The shorter man attempting to look down his nose at him. It only made Jesse smile wider.

“Heh… Well in all fairness I haven’t been doing this gig for very long,” he pushed back his hat, brown wavy hair falling around his face. He already liked the smaller man. “But I bet you’re an even better shot on the range.” 

“There is none better,” came the huffy reply, the man crossing his heavily muscled arms.

“Well, I’d love t’see it sometime,” McCree leaned down a little, putting on his most seductive smile. The birthday goers were distracted and his job was done, it didn’t hurt to flirt a little. His long fingers found their way to the tail of the ribbon. “I can handle a real gun plenty well myself.”

 

* * *

 

Hanzo’s brow furred deeply, jerkin this head up and away from the cowman. “Unhand me, Cowman.” He turned briskly, snapping his ribbon away from the man. He was fuming, red at the ears and stomped away. This fool had been flirting with him. How inappropriate. How ridiculous. How absurd. He was not someone that got casually hit on. He was terrifying! People feared him and his stern exterior.

“Are you feeling alright, Hanz?” Angela was suddenly next to him, her cool hands on his burning cheek. 

“I am fine, Angela.” He brushed her hand away. “The heat of the day has warmed me. It was a wonderful party.” 

“Heading out already?” Jack laughed, holding a plate of wings and a beer.

“You,” Hanzo growled, directing his frustration only at jack, “are a bastard. Expect retribution.” 

Jack only laughed and shrugged. “Bring that fire to the next meeting and we’ll fight it out.”

Hanzo smacked the plate of wings out of his hands in frustration, paused to lean in and kiss Angela’s cheek before sweeping out of the party in a thunder.

He was bristling, listening to Jack laugh and Angela try to hush him as he stomped to the front of the house. His Mercedes parked down the street a bit. He flung himself into it, taking time to smooth his hair and ribbons before slamming it into drive. 

 

* * *

 

McCree chuckled as the other man fled. He hadn’t meant to scare him away but… well he was pretty darn cute. The cowboy tipped his hat back and watched the party for a bit, occasionally chasing a squealing kid around the backyard or tossing a nerf ball around.

Angela took mercy on him though after an hour or so and came over quietly. She was a mighty fine looking woman with that golden hair blowing and sparkling blue eyes. But he couldn’t help think that the asian man had been far more beautiful.

“Jesse, I can’t thank you enough for doing all this for Hana,” her hand was warm on his shoulder. “It really means the world that she could see her favorite uncle, and just like in all her westerns.”

“Anything for the little gremlin,” he relaxed, warmed to hear Hana thought of him as family even if he wasn’t.

“You are von to talk, Cowboy,” she teasingly tugged the brim of his hat down over his eyes. “She is adorable little bunny.”

“If you say so, Angel,” he smirked, reminding her of her terrible halloween costume from last year. “She sure is cute though, real heartbreaker in the making.”

“Just like you, I noticed.”

He turned in surprise, looking down at the woman. “What do ya mean?”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “As if you weren’t trying to take home another of our guests or at least make-out with him behind a tree. Outlaw and Sherif, forbidden romance.” His blush started to deepen. “As well as try very hard to shoot him in the butt with your nerf gun.”

“That obvious?”

“I think I vas the only von to understand your intent,” she gave a devious laugh, accent thick with merriment. “And I have to admit I found it very entertaining.”

“Well I do put on a good show.” He huffed, feeling a bit put out that his oh-so-casual flirting had been detected. At least Jack hadn’t been paying attention.

“I am sure his interest was quite piqued.”

McCree rolled his eyes and shrugged. “He was more exciting than you made him seem.” He crossed his arms and drew himself up to his full height, sticking his nose dramatically into the air. “I am the terrifying Hanzo Shimada,” Angela was laughing now, shaking her head. “I only drink sake and wear designer. My ponytail is so tight I can’t move my face.”

“You are horrible, Jesse, just horrible,” she was laughing though. “I will never tell you anything again.”

McCree shrugged, giving her a lazy smile. Hanzo had been very different than he had expected from Angela’s wine fueled gossip. The way the man moved, while dodging those nerf darts was something out of dream. He would be dreaming of how those silken ribbon tails had woven around him. What he wouldn’t give to wrap them around his fist and pull that sullen face up towards his.

He managed to keep up a normal enough front while talking with Angela and eventually making his way over to talk shop with Jack. They had worked together for years in the fire department and always had something to chat about. He accepted a plate of food and a beer from Angela while he chatted. It was a warm and friendly discussion that flowed freely while the party started to die down. It had been a good day. 

There were sleepy kids everywhere, being gathered up by tired looking parents. A kid with green light up sneakers and dreads that bounced enthusiastically with his endless fidgeting was pulling along a frog plush and a tiny brunette that was wearing goggles of all things.

Hana was passed out in Angela’s arms now, the woman looking about ready to fall asleep too in a lawn chair.

“Another mission successfully competed,” Jack chuckled, his voice rough and growly from years of charging into smoking buildings. “I appreciate you doing this, you really went all out.”

“Heh… well captain, you know yawl are family t’me.” he turned his cowboy hat in his hands. “‘Sides, I already had all the gear.” He chuckled, his western obsession well known and the subject of much ridicule at the firehouse. 

Jack just put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Get some rest, McCree. We’re on the graveyard shift tonight.” Jesse just groaned, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Go get washed up and crash in the guest bedroom. I’ll handle the cleanup.”

McCree didn’t try to refuse, going over to thankAngela for her hospitality and give Hana a little peck on the top of her head before going inside. The house was warm and full of calming energy. The decorating simple but welcoming, golds and gray and white. He paused to look at the pictures lining the hallway. There was so many more now, mostly featuring Hana. Before they had adopted her, this place had always seemed a little empty.

He paused in front of his favorite. Angela and him standing on the edge of the grand canyon with the sun setting behind them. Her hair had been longer than, streaming around her and his had been shorter. He caressed the edge of the frame with a finger. Those had been simpler times. Back when he and Angela had been going through EMT training together, close friends. They had met Jack after graduating, serving with him for years at the Overwatch fire station on the east coast. Angela putting herself through medical school and McCree working late nights at some questionable establishments. 

He chuckled, shaking his head before going down the hall to the guest room he frequented. He had eventually wanted more and gone on to get his own degree and join the fire fighters under Jack. The move to California had sealed the deal. He loved the west.

He let himself into the guest room, beginning to undress with a groan. He needed a soak in a hot tub with some handsome company. He didn’t fit in with Jack and Angela anymore, with them together it was lonely. Single and living out of a tiny studio apartment downtown near the fire station, eating takeout and drinking too much. Coming here to be a part of a family for a little bit. See his old friends and their daughter, be the fun and willing to please uncle.

A flask appeared from his pile of clothes and he took a long pull. The heat rushing through his chest helped ease his anxieties. He was wanted. He was valued here. He just needed to remember that.

Instead his mind was fixed on an icy sneer and a gold ribbon dancing in the wind.

 

* * *

 

Hanzo fumed to himself, stomping around his flat with no regard for his downstairs neighbors. The pain between his eyes was constant but bearable. His mood was not, grumbling as he got a massive cup of tea and a some crackers. He wasn’t hungry but needed to fuel his body. He would forget to eat all together if he wasn’t careful.

With a huff, he threw himself into his chair at his massive drafting table. The light from his phone going off distracted him but he ignored it. It was just going to be work checking on his progress. He hadn’t made any yet.

A very sleepy squeak sounded and before long a white blob oozed into his lap. “There’s my boy,” he rumbled, mood instantly beginning to improve. Another much angrier meow sounded behind him before a black streak leapt to the top of his worktable. “Well now the whole family is together,” he chuckled, stroking his companion’s head lovingly. 

The white cat purred furiously, curling it’s lithe body up, getting comfortable. He murmured words of love and affection in Japanese, turning to give his black soot of a cat some attention. They were litter-mates, raised from birth by the quiet man and had been with him through years. They were technically emotional support animals, at least to his doctor and landlord.

His spirit calmer, he turned his attention to his work.

Hours past as he sketched and drew, eventually moving to his computer desk, cats in tow. his distaste at using the software to construct 3d models had lessened over the years. Nothing compared to pen and paper. These did however help win bids and sell clients.

It was close to morning when he finally sent the plans to his firm to be fleshed out and prepped for presentation at noon. He would leave that up to his business manager, someone much better with presentation. This failing of his had been pointed out multiple times before hiring a more friendly, fresher face to handle it.

Despite the late hour and his exhaustion, he took the time to bath. He hated the feeling of being tired, the physical affects that made him feel covered in grime. It was purely mental. He had showered the instant he had gotten home from the party. This time bathing was for more than that.

He slowly undressed, clothing carefully placed in the hampers, sorted by light and darks. His belt was hung with care on the special hook for it. The ribbon took a place of honor, neatly folded next to a steamer. Heavily scared legs, nimble and surprisingly slim eased into the hot water of the o-furos tub. He had this specially made and installed, a little bit of home.

Dark hair flared out around his pale face as he relaxed, letting the tension slowly start to melt away. It was meditative, mind settling just as the ripples did. There was only the water and heat. 

And suddenly the face of a ridiculous man with a dangerous lazy smile.

Brown eyes snapped open, peace gone at the thought. That bastard, making a fool of him in front of everyone. Teasing him and flirting and literally chasing him around the yard. **_I will end him._** It had been fun though. His confusion and frustration growing now as he remembered that smirk. The desire to slap it had not dispersed over the day. He was letting himself get flustered by a man with a cowman fetish!

A mewling scream outside the door reminded him that he had been away from his furry children too long. With a sigh, he abandoned his effort to meditate, avoiding thinking about why his body was so hot as he put on a robe. He needed peace and quiet. When he woke, he would feel like himself again.

His last thoughts were of putting the cowman in his place before exhaustion overtook him.


	2. McCree's Day takes a turn for the Better. Hanzo considers Murder Twice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is scheming a foot.
> 
> The real story starts to get underway here. A bit more serious in tone and longer to boot.
> 
> Scheduled updates? what are those??? I'm just going to post as I finish so forgive me if they are rough. Un'betad as always.

McCree accepted the steaming cup of coffee with an amused smile. “Thanks,” he looked over the brim of the Yeehaw! mug at a very groggy looking Angela. Her hair was in a messy frizzy ponytail and surprisingly an oversized t-shirt and sweats. “Rough morning?”

She grunted and half rolled her eyes. “I’d rather run a fire station than chaperon six five year olds during a sleepover.” She tilted her chin at the backyard which currently had a tent set up where the offending collective still slept. “I considered lighting the house on fire just to get Jack back here.”

A warm earthy chuckle escaped him. “You are really are an saint,” he wouldn’t have traded places with her for the world. 

“Then you are surely an angel for agreeing to come over at such short notice,” her smile had a few more watts in it now.

A blush crept up his cheeks and he shrugged. “It’s nothing Ang,” he looked back into the yard, seeing some movement before Hana tumbled out the half unzipped flap. “I know Jack doesn’t have time, not with the proposal finally going forward.” the fire station was buzzing with gossip and excitement these days. The city had finally approved the request to build a second, much larger station near their old one. It would allow for more trucks and equipment along with much needed man power. Budget cuts and politics had slowed the process to a crawl for over a year.

They had been close, even had some city architect draw up blueprints. They had been extremely unimpressive and demonstrated a lack of experience in actual fire stations, strictly by the book and miserly in proportion. The proposal had gotten caught up in politics and angry fire chefs before being halted again. Until now when funds had suddenly come in and the city was scrambling to find a new architect that would work closer with the station.

“Uncle jess,” Hana’s sleepy voice brought his attention back to earth and to the little girl in bright pink pjs. Her hood was pulled up, bunny ears swaying as she shuffled over to him.

He reached down, picking her up in his heavily muscled arms. She put her head on his shoulder sweetly. “G’morning, darling,” he chuckled warmly, patting her back. His gaze caught Angela’s for a moment, sharing a sweet smile. “You look plum tuckered out for someone that just got up.”

“I’m tired,” she huffed, “and hungry.”

A grin spread across his face. “You asking me t’make you and your friends some of my famous cowboy pancakes?” He could see Angela clasping her hands together and mouthing “thank you” out of the corner of his eye.

“Yes please, uncle Jess,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes with little fists.

“Well why don’t you go get your friends up, darlin,” he set her down after a quick hug. “I’ll get breakfast going.”

The tiny gremlin was quick to head to the backyard, seemingly energized just by the thought of food. “And why don’t you go lay down for a bit, I can handle them till Jack gets home.” He turned to find Angela already headed down the hall towards her bedroom.

He laughed, turning to the kitchen to put on an apron and get cacti shaped pancakes going. the heartwarming sound of children’s sleepy laughter making him smile, this was shaping up to be a crazy morning.

 

* * *

 

 

Hanzo Shimada half stomped his way through the Home Depot, fuming at the lack of organization. The map on his smartphone so poorly executed he still had no idea where to find the supplies he needed. The day off to a fabulous start.

Jack had called him so early, it might as well have been night. The man was too busy at the fire station to pick up the order of lumbar, screws, paint and a whole host of other things. He had promised that he would still be there at 9AM sharp to get the project rolling. 

Hanzo was beginning to doubt that, finally finding an employee that directed him to the back counter where he could pick Jack’s order. After some quick paper work, he took the keys to the massive truck and headed to the back. It was piled high with the order, already strapped down and ready to go. 

For that he was thankful, looking at the truck’s far off the ground door. His eyes pressed closed for a moment, taking a deep calming breath. He would murder Jack. The short Shimada reached up, straining to get the door handle and pull it open, then with a fast hop, he managed to get in the cab.

**_Distasteful._ **

He was dwarfed by the truck, fully aware that he was drawing some attention to himself. The snickers of another custom drew his famous death glare. The laughter stopped and he adjusted the seat, pulling it forward and setting the mirrors. He was not going to die in this hideous thing.

The drive to Jack and Angela’s house was strenuous in the most unpleasing manor, darkening his mood further. The truck was nothing like his sleek nimble Mercedes, reminding him of driving a tank. Anxiety tore through him, making his thoughts race and scatter. His chest was tight.

He was late. It was almost 9:30 by the time he haphazardly parked the truck in the drive way and literally **_hopped down_**. There was no sign of Jack’s own F 150. Angela’s little coup was certainly parked in their small garage.

It took a large amount of his patience to keep his calm, forcing himself to take several slow deep breathes. The cool morning air soothing his frayed nerves. He wished he had brought Miku on a harness and leash so he could hold him. His cats calmed him like few other things did. Maybe he would bring his braver of the two next time. Hana did love playing with him.

After straightening his crisp button down and checking his hair ribbon, he made his way into the backyard. Angela had given him a key years ago. A dark eyebrow rose to see a tent and fold up chairs littered around. They had had a campout?

The glass door from the backyard to the large kitchen was open, drawing his attention as children’s voices rose with excitement. Perhaps the fire chef was giving one of his famously unsafe safety demonstrations.

The Japanese man strode across the grass, trying not to fume that Jack had pushed off the errand so he could have fun. He had finally managed to clear his busy schedule to help with this project and the man couldn’t even be bothered to do his part.

“You are lucky there are children present,” He half growled, looming into the room. 

 

* * *

 

 

Jesse jumped, slamming the skillet into the soapy water in the sink in his surprise. “What the hell,” he whipped around, reaching to step in front of the children. His eyes dazed looking into the bright backyard, a figure silhouetted. “Kids, stay behind me,” he squinted, wishing he had his 6 shooter. Angela forbid guns in the house unless they were in the safe though. 

The figure’s posture changed, shifting into an uncertain one, head to the side. “I see you do not have your weapons this time.” He took a step forward, that low accent thick voice curling around Jesse.

“Partner, whatever beef you’ve got with me, just let the kids go.” He was languid grace and power, coiled to spring on the smaller man if things got violent.

“Do not be absurd. I am here for them. Not for you.” The haughty lift of chin, arrogance radiating and then there was a shrill scream from down the hall.

“Uncle Hanzo!” reverberated through the room as a very happy, pj wearing Hana came racing down the hall. She charged straight through the small crowd of confused children and hurled herself into the man’s arms.

**_Hanzo_ **

A laugh bubbled up from his throat, instantly relaxing as the man stepped into the dimmer light of the kitchen. Hana was happily snuggled up to him, her arms around his neck. The Japanese man was grinning, transformed by the presence of the little Korean.

“You threw a good scare in t’me,” Jesse chuckled, walking over to the man with an uncertain smile. “Angela didn’t tell me you were gonna be here.” the man half glared at him, nose in the air. “If I’d’ known, I wouldda worn somethin’ a bit nicer.”

The shorter man just stared at him, obviously confused for a moment before turning away sharply. “Hana, where is your father?” 

It was Angela that answered though, the scream of joy having woken her. She looked far more alive this time. “Working still, apparently the city councilmen wanted to meet to go over the proposals. He has a shift after that” she sighed, going to the sink to take over washing the skillet, setting it with the pile of still wet plates in the drying rack. “I’m afraid we will have to reschedule after all…”

Hana pouted and half wailed her displeasure. “Noooooo, this is the third time. Pleaaase mommy, can’t you stay and help?”

McCree’s heart gave a twinge, knowing that the little lass had her heart set on this. “Well… I can probably do it by myself. Did Jack leave the plans somewhere, Ang?”

She woman blinked and then gave a very uncharacteristic smirk. “In fact, Jesse, the plans are right there.” She pointed with one manicured finger and Jesse turned.

The Japanese man was glaring at him. “What…?”

That nose tilted higher in the air. “I am the architect of this particular tree house.”

 

* * *

 

The Cowman’s face tinted red, a hand going up to his head, pushing through those honey brown locks. The perfect length to tangle his hands in. Hanzo tried not to dwell on that thought. “Heh… Well then, I’ll be the brawn and you can be the brain.” He drawled, that warm honeyed voice made Hanzo’s blood boil. He didn’t know why it angered him so much. He wanted to smack him. “I can assure you. I am both brawn and brains.”

“Sure you are, darlin’,” the man dared to smirk at him, ignoring the snickering Angela. She wasn’t paying much attention though, getting the children’s backpacks. Their parents on the way.

“Please Uncle Han, please?” Hanapouted, bouncing in his arms. 

Angela was giving him an apologetic look as she ushered the children through the house towards the front door and Jesse continued to smirk.

He bowed his head slightly. “Very well. The supplies are out front.” 

There was a long moment, tension hanging in the air between them. Hanzo still wanted to strike him but there were children present.

“Want a cuppa coffee?” McCree asked after along moment. He had his own mug, drinking out of it with a **disgusting** slurp. 

Hanzo had a reactive desire to refuse. This man got under his skin in a way few did. His normal calm facade splintering. A long slow breath focused him. “Cream, sugar.”

“Woah there, darlin,” the cowman smirked, pulling a mug from the cabinet. “Didn’t assume you one for cute nicknames right off the bat.”

“What are you talking about, fool?”

The ridiculous man just smiled lazily, pouring some half and half into the cup. “Oh nothing, just surprised you’re sweet on me.” Those brown eyes flashing with something that made Hanzo’s eye twitch and a blush rush up the back of his neck.

“You presume too much, cowman,” he snapped, stepping forward into McCree’s space, crowding him against the counter. “I may have humored you for Hana’s sake but given half the chance I would teach you a lesson in manners.” The heat radiated off McCree, a broad chest and powerful **_thick_** torso almost touching his own. He was a good 6 inches shorter at the least but was all dominance when challenged. “And put sugar in my damn coffee.”

A near strangle sound came from McCree but it quickly turned into a full body laugh. “Damn, darlin, I didn’t realize you had fire crackling you up inside.”

Hanzo blinked, confused and taking a half step back, tension fading. Had he misspoken? His English was excellent but there were still times when a colloquium or idiom tricked him into looking like a fool.

The cowman did dump a liberal amount of sugar into the mug on the counter beside him. “Don’t look so confused, Shimada,” he presented the cup with a languid honeyed smile. “I was just sayin’ you looked mighty fine all angry like that.”

Hanzo froze with the cup to his lips, eyes searing over the top rim to burn into the fool. “You have not begun to see me angry.”

“Boy howdy, I’d like to.”

Was he not speaking correctly? Had a stroke overtaken him and fried his already sleep deprived brain? This was an unprecedented situation and he didn’t know how to proceed. His default behavior kicked in, turning his emotions off to let them reset and calming turning away from the man. He would take his coffee on the front porch with Angela and the remaining children.

 

* * *

 

 

Jesse slowly let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as Hanzo glided away. The man could change emotions so fast he nearly got whiplash. Or at least that’s what he told himself as he leaned back into the counter, legs feeling mighty weak. He had thought he was going to be punched or kissed for a second. He honestly wasn’t sure which one would appealed to him more.

The heat was fading from his flushed face, nursing his own cup of coffee. His thoughts still tumbling. The man was definitely more complex than he had seemed at Hana’s birthday party. Something real wild under that up-tight facade. It made McCree want to wind him up real tight and let him go. Even if it meant getting the ever living shit beat out of him, not that he couldn’t hold his own in a fight.

Years as a fire fighter had layered his body with thick muscle and nights in the ring with bare knuckles had honed him in more primitive ways. He hadn’t taken a fight in over six months but the call was still there, quick money for an evening of blood and violence and weeks of guilt for it later. 

He should probably tell his therapist about it but the relationship was still new. Maybe someday. For the moment, he let his mind wander over what it would be like to fight the Japanese man. If those broad shoulders and thick thighs were for more than show, it would be fun. Very fun. 

That inky hair falling in a dark wave around a haughty face. His own muscular forearms pinned above him on the mat. Hanzo’s knees crushing in against his hips.

“Thank you again, Jesse.”

He was jolted from his musings, gulping hard to disguise his surprise. “Heh, don’t worry bout it, Ang,” he rubbed a hand through his messy hair. “Been a shame it’s taken this long to get Hana’s birthday present up. Didn’t know the Shimada was drawing the plans up tho…”

“A favor Jack called in,” Angela smiled, a half asleep Hana in one arm. The rest of the children must have been picked up by their parents. How long had he been standing here lost in thought? “After the last disastrous attempt at building it.” She chuckled, running a hand over her face. “We are lucky Hanzo agreed. We could never have afforded to hire him.”

“He’s that fancy, huh?”

“Definitely…” Angela gave him a weary look before glancing towards the front door. “Her treehouse would have costed more than our house.” She looked back to McCree, stroking the now asleep Hana’s head. “But he wouldn’t take anything.”

McCree raised his eyebrows, not totally surprised though. If Shimada was as wealthy and powerful as Jack and Ang were trying to make him believe, he could afford to be generous. It was a nice sentiment though. “If only he’d donate his time to get us a new firehouse,” he chuckled, finishing off his coffee. He turned to rinse it out in the sink, wondering what the man was up to now.

“Well… we are hoping he can be convinced to donate at least some of his time.” 

McCree paused, water splashing over his hands. “Is _that_ why Jack called me in the middle of the night to help this morning?”

“In a way, yes,” Angela said carefully. “Jack thought… perhaps if Hanzo was around and they were working on a project, he could broach the subject more gently.”

“And he called tangled in politics and needed someone to charm the man a little.” He set the rinsed cup on the counter, drying his hands on a tea towel. 

“Not exactly, it wasn’t a setup…”

“Ang…” he sighed, turning to face her. He crossed his arms over his chest. “You know I don’t like schemes, I’m a straight shooter.” Coldness moved through his core. He didn’t want to try to persuade or manipulate anyone. It wasn’t in his nature. 

“Then please don’t antagonize him more than you have too,” her tone had turned serious. “Every night Jack and you spend spend in that old, rickety, shit station, running on outdated equipment is a night I worry you won’t come out.”

Jesse softened after a long moment, running his hand through his hair in a bad habit. “I know you’re worried…. I’ll see if I can at tone down my teasing a bit.” He glanced away into the backyard. Heat snarled down his core to his groin. His throat thickening. “Or turn it up.” He breathed to himself, watching the fancy ass architect carrying a thick beam on one shoulder to a pile of lumber next to the main tree. 

Angela snorted and rolled her eyes. “Well at least try to make sure he has a fun time. I’ll keep Hana out of your hair.”

“Mmhm,” he replied absently, not afraid to stare at the show as Hanzo reached up to retie his ponytail. He couldn’t promise he wouldn’t tease the dragon but it might not be too terrible a day after all. “I’ll see what I can do.”

 

* * *

 

 

“No, not there,” hanzo snapped, standing on the ground with the plans displayed on a holoboard. “The anchor has to be there,” he pointed at the thick limb about six inches to where McCree held the drill. He was trying very hard not to be distracted by the way the cowman’s shirt rode up, his vantage point below and to the left of the ladder advantageous. 

He had been pleasantly surprised by the cowman’s work ethic and skill. He had joined the unloading happily, perhaps a bit too chatty, and taken his instructions for marking and cutting the lumber. It had calmed his anger and thirst for vengeance against the man.

It had been years since he had seen one of his creations come to life so intimately. The hospitals and hotels and casinos were scattered across the globe but he never had any desire to visit them.

The gifts he received in addition to payment went to his brother and whatever boyfriend he had at the time. They always made sure to send him pictures. A smile tugged at his mouth, happy to have reconciled with his brother. Maybe next time, he would travel with him. It had been too hard to take himself away from his work lately. Running from his own loneliness and anxiety. Staying busy to keep the thoughts away, working late till he was too tired for dreams.

They still haunted him most nights. Remembering the nightmare that had finally driven him from his old home. It had been a long time ago.

His home in the states still felt foreign to him despite the friendships he’d made. There was no sense of belonging. His therapist wanted him to focus on making connections. He wanted to spend his time alone with his cats. He would have something positive to tell him at their session at least. He had spent his rare Saturday off building a treehouse with a scruffy cowman. 

“You could get up here and mark the spot yourself,” the cowman grumbled, pulling Hanzo out of his thoughts. McCree was holding the tip of the bit against the trunk.

“I have faith even a cowman can handle the task just fine.”

McCree rolled his eyes down at him, shifting to get the right leverage on the drill. The thick muscles in his back rippled, pulling tight around his tanktop. The flannel was now tied around his hips.

He moved the drill to the new mark. “So just straight in?”

“Keep it as level and straight as you can.” Hanzo smirked before glancing down at the blueprints again. They were making okay progress by his calculations. They would not finish today but the floor and walls should be up. Hana would have to wait till Jack could finish the project and painting and help decorate. 

His brows drew together, ignoring the sounds of drilling. Jack thought he was so clever, getting him here with the handsome, flirty cowboy. As if he would fall for the bait being dangled right in front of his nose or the implied offer. Jack would never admit to offering McCree in exchange for some help in his battle to get the new fire station. In the months since Hana’s birthday party, Jack had none too subtly been asking. 

The wind stirred his hair ribbon. He smoothed it and his hair absently. He could donate the time, have a few of his other architects work with him to get the plans drawn up. It would look good to do some pro bono stuff for the city. He still hesitated. If it had just been designing it, he probably would have caved weeks ago. Jack’s other demand… he was not so eager about.

“Toss up a lag, sweetheart,”

Hanzo glanced up to see those honey brown eyes looking down at him. His stomach twisted unpleasantly. “Do not use such presumptuous nicknames with me.” His voice had no real bite to it though as he climbed up a handful of rungs and stretched up, handing up the lag screw. McCree’s broad roughened fingers lingered on his own. He retreated down the ladder, resisting the urge to wipe his hand on his shirt. Not because it was dirty though.

“Alright, I’m ready for the beam, darlin’”

“Do you have a hearing disability?”

“For you, I’m all ears,” Those eyes beamed at him again before he pulled up the plank, struggling with it’s weight for a moment. 

Hanzo hoped he would fall off the ladder and break something. He pointedly crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. Curses fell down around him as the board teetered above, banging against the tree. 

“Heh… Sure you can’t help me up here?” 

Hanzo looked up after a long pause, giving the cowman plenty of time to rethink his actions. Warm puppy dog eyes looked down at him, thick cut arms shaking slightly. Hanzo sniffed delicately and raised a brow expectantly. “C’mon, I’m sorry I was teasin’ you so much, Shimada.”

“Very well, Cowman,” he snickered, probably more pleased than he should be.

He only took a moment to roll his shoulders, loosening up and untucking his shirt. The weight of McCree’s eyes on him was like a heavy hand. A smirk tugged at his lips as he jumped straight up, catching a low hanging branch and swinging himself up. The tree was just as easy to climb this time has it had been at their first meeting. He was quickly settled on a limb at the same height as McCree, legs wrapped around a thick limb for stability. 

A low whistle greeted the display. “Never met a man that could move like that,” the surprise seemed real.

“I have never met a cowman before,” Hanzo laughed. It wasn’t an entirely true statement. Genji had surprised him on his 30th birthday with a cowboy stripper. It had been terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. He had sent the man home of course though.

McCree’s rich laugh rumbled around them. “Well, I ain’t a real cow ** _boy_** ,”Hanzo took the beam and pulled it up, giving more leverage to the larger man. “I mean… I worked on a ranch for a while but it’s nothin’ like those westerns I love.”

The two men wrestled the beam in place. McCree bracing it with one hand as he got the impact gun untangled from his tool belt and sank the lag. 

“So… was the cow ** _man_** hat real,” He asked too casually, using his preferred variation. He kept his eyes down. A blush was starting on the back of his neck. 

“Hmm, oh at the birthday party? Yeah, they were both from my years working the ranch out in Arizona.” He tested the tightness of the bolt with a special tool before slapping his thighs. “Well, that’s one done at least.”

Hanzo’s eyes followed the path of those broad hands, tearing his gaze away before he was caught. “I would say… we are off to a good start.” He eased his legs over and hopped down to a lower branch and onto the ground.

 

* * *

 

 

“You boys have dun wonderval!”

McCree smiled down at Angela’s smiling face, her joy overwhelming. It made the long day of hard work worth it. He looked up, grinning at the finished floor of the treehouse, the walls and roof framed up. Hanzo had been a taskmaster but… they had gotten a lot more done than he had thought.

“Heh… I guess we did,” he grinned lazily over at the Shimada. The man was looking a little wilted, his ponytail half undone and shoulders slumping. “You okay, pardner?”

“I am fine,” can the snippy reply.

McCree rolled his eyes. The man had actually been pretty enjoyable to be around, even chatting lightly while they worked. As soon as Angela had shown up, that regal snooty attitude had appeared again.

“Well you both deserve a beer at the very least!” Angela looked between the two of them with a high watt smile. “You can even have it in the treehouse!”

“I do not think that would be wise-“

“Sounds perfect,” McCree stopped, feeling a sudden awkwardness. Angela’s smile fading. “Heh… I’ll at least take one.” He wasn’t sure why a ripple of cold moved through him. Was he disappointed that the Shimada didn’t want to hang around to have a beer? The man was probably about to crawl out of his skin. Sweaty and dirty with sawdust in a crease on his neck and stuck to his chest. The top 2 buttons undone while working. 

“I did not mean…” Hanzo paused, looking over at the cowboy. McCree raised his eyebrows hopefully. He knew he was looking rough and probably smelling rough. Not exactly his most charming. The man sighed. “I would like a beer, Angela.”

She beamed before hurrying to the kitchen. McCree and Hanzo stood in the dinning room off the backyard. He ran a hand through his hair before pulling it back into a small ponytail at the base of his neck.

“Didn’t figure you one for beer,” he ventured tentatively, wondering if he should tell the man about Angela’s and Jack’s plans. He didn’t want to have any false pretense between them. It still bugged him that Jack was even trying this shit.

“I am not an… hmm,” the man looked contemplative, “connoisseur.” There was a question in the word. 

McCree realized that he wasn’t sure if it was the right “english” word. “Well, I’m no expert either. My palette is like leather.” He chuckled, watching the shimada relax slightly. “But if it’ll help my muscles relax a little…” he shrugged, looking back at their handy work through the sliding glass doors. 

A warm chuckle bubbled up from the other man. “My body longs for the embrace of my o-furo.”

“Uh…is that your… girlfriend?”

The laughter returned, shaking the smaller man’s form. He shook his head emphatically. “No, McCree,” he covered his mouth with a hand. “It is my bathtub. It is a Japanese one.”

A dark blush charged up McCree’s face and he looked away. He was a fool. 

Before he could lament his stupidity and the heavenly sound of Shimada saying his name with a laugh, Angela had appeared with two ice cold beers. “Enjoy boys! You two have fun,” and she was herding them out the door into the backyard.

McCree sheepishly let her do it, looking at the label but not reading it. The silence between them was comfortable though as Hanzo took the ladder in first. He was groaning by the top. Heat flared in his groin despite his tiredness. He carefully pushed it down, keeping his eyes on the rungs of the ladder before pulling himself onto the platform.

They settled on the edge, legs dangling in the sunset light. There was a small space between them. McCree popped the top off his beer with an experienced move, tucking the cap into his pocket. He focused on it, taking a deep drag as the tree gently swayed over them. It was cooling off a little but the beer still felt amazing on his tongue and throat. 

“McCree…” The voice was small and warm, drawing his attention like a moth to flame.

“Darlin’?” he murmured, slowly lowering the bottle to his lap. Hanzo was looking up at him through his eyelashes, cheeks flushed. 

“I…” he looked down and then huffed, sending his silken bangs fluttering. “Please assist me.”

McCree’s eyebrows shot up, his heart lurching into high gear. He leaned a little closer, realizing once again how much taller he was, broader too. It would be so easy to push Hanzo down against the sun warmed boards and - 

Hanzo was looking at him strangely and raised the still sealed beer higher. 

“O-oh,” McCree cleared his throat roughly, setting his own beer down. He felt dizzy. “Can’t have you damagin’ those pretty hands of yours, after all,” he managed, taking the beer without looking and popping the top off. 

A snort drew his gaze back to the man. Those dark brown eyes smirked up at him, the last bits of dying sunlight highlighting his cheeks in gold. “Trust me, Cowman,” his chin raised, “My hands are good for many other things.”

Wildfires bloomed in McCree’s core.

 

* * *

 

 

Hanzo held back a snicker at the look on McCree’s face. It felt good to get a bit of fluster out of him. “And to answer your earlier other question,” he leaned into McCree’s space, sneering at the hungry look on McCree’s face. The fool was easier to read than a children’s book. “I do not currently have a boyfriend.”

The cowman’s mouth parted in surprise. “U-uh,” he stammered, running a hand through that soft brown hair. “Well, imagine that.” He took a gulp of his beer. His hands were shaking.

Hanzo smirked, taking a drink himself to let McCree suffer. It had been a long time since he had felt this relaxed, exhausted and already sore, but in a good way. He took another sip, looking out over the neighborhood and rolling hills beyond them. The ocean was a sliver on the horizon, the same ocean he had looked over longingly as a child.

Maybe he had judged McCree wrongly on their first meeting. The man was an absolute fool but he had given up a whole Saturday to make Hana happy. A simple man with a strange cowboy fetish. He wondered absently if the man owned chaps. He was afraid to consider it for a multitude of reasons.

“It’s sure beautiful,” McCree said suddenly, pulling Hanzo’s attention to him.

Hanzo’s dark gaze found the cowman’s. _His lips are chapped,_ he thought absently. “What is beautiful?” he had not expected the man to care for things like sunsets.

“You are darlin’.”

Hanzo’s mouth tugged down into a frown and he rolled his eyes. “You are a fool.”

“Aww, c’mon now. if you’re gonna call me names, I prefer something manly like gunslinger.”

“As you wish, cow ** _man_** ,” Hanzo sneered, taking another draw form his beer. 

McCree huffed at him. “You’re an asshole.”

“Rude.”

“Straight shooter.”

Hanzo shrugged, too worn out to put the cowman in his place properly. And not entirely wanting to anymore either. He knew if Genji was here, he would insist that Hanzo was flirting. His brother was a fool as well. Still, he couldn't lie that he was enjoying himself.

The beer was good he decided, undertones of chocolate and oatmeal. It was a little sweet for his tastes. He would cleanse his palette with sake later once he was neck deep in his o-furo. He hadn’t worked this hard in years, at least not in this way. It was very different than the dojo of his past and the home gym of his present. 

They passed some time in silence, working on their beers and enjoying the sunset. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the cowman working himself up to something. His shoulders tensing and chewing on his chapped bottom lip. _Disgusting._

“So,” Hanzo turned to look up at McCree, “there’s something I was thinking,“ the man was picking at his beer label with a blunt fingernail. “No pressure, mind ya darin’.”

“Out with it,” he snipped, knowing what was coming and feeling a bit disappointed. It was like most of his adventures in flirting and dating. Not that this had been either of those things. It always came back to asking for favors in the end. Whether for a fire station or jewelry or trades with the shimada company.

“Don’t rush a man,” McCree sighed, giving him an eye.

Hanzo shrugged, resigned.

“I was going to say, before I was so _rudely_ interrupted,” McCree leaned back, weight resting on his elbows. “Can I give you a call sometime, to talk?”

Hanzo blinked, turning his head to the side. “We are talking now.”

“No, not like that.”

“Then make yourself clear,” he bristled.

“I mean,” the cowboy met his gaze. His cheeks were rudy in the dim light. “Can I have your number?”

 

* * *

 

 

McCree’s heart was pounding, feeling like he was sixteen again asking Michael Durrow to go to the school dance with him. He didn’t know what had possessed him. He was suppose to be getting the man to design a fire station, not netflix and chill with him. He wondered if Hanzo liked horror movies or movies at all. Maybe he was only for those fancy ones in french. Maybe he only read books and drank tea.

“Oh,” Hanzo’s own cheeks turned the most tempting shade of pink and he looked away.

_Damn, he’s cute._ He swallowed, looking out to the ocean. The sweat on his neck wasn’t from the last heat of the day. The silence drew out between them. “Heh… forget I asked, Shimada.” He shrugged, packing away his disappointment for later. Not like one rejection had ever kept him down for long. “Though you’re the cutest thing this side of the Rockies.”

“And you are as subtle as a bull.” Hanzo huffed, smoothing his hair back. The ribbons quested gently in the breeze.

McCree noticed there was gray coming in at the temples. It looked good on him. “Mm, mess with the bull, plan to get the horns.”

“Keep your horns in your pants,” Hanzo snapped, turning with a look of rage. Those brows drawn down like stormclouds. 

McCree blinked, staring at the bristling man at his side, fighting back a laugh. He was really trying, shoulders starting to shake, hand over his mouth. Moisture starting to prick at his eyes as he snorted and then chuckled. And then burst out into a laugh that shook his frame. “Damn, Shimada,” he slapped his thigh with a hoot. “You’re just too damn cute.”

“I am not cute,” the words could have cut, indignation clear.

“You’re adorable-“ he started before he was suddenly slammed down on warm boards. He blinked, staring up in a daze at the figure looming over him. A hand pinned him down hard by his shoulder. Golden ribbons danced in the wind. His swallow was audible, praying to any gods listening that Hanzo wouldn’t look away from his face.

“Do not disrespect me, Cowman,” the man growled, face twisted in a snarl. 

McCree couldn’t help but laugh again, reaching up to tug the man’s hair ribbon. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he must have had a death wish, unable to control himself. A kiss or a fist, both would taste sweet.

Hanzo let out a strangled sound of frustration, throwing up his hands. Angry Japanese muttering filled the quiet, the man gesturing rather violently with his hands to no one in particular. 

“Ya having a stroke, Darlin’?” McCree asked with a lazy drawl, pushing himself up. His body was still burning with excitement and a new sore spot on his back from being shoved down. It would remind him of Hanzo later in the most perfect way.

The Japanese man glared at him, nostrils flared and brows threatening to slam into his cheekbones. It last for a long moment, McCree just warmly smiling back. He wasn’t scared of the shimada’s antics. It was kinda hot in fact.

“You are an… an,” he was obviously searching for the right english word. 

“An idiot?” McCree supplied with a cheekily innocent grin.

The smaller man drew himself up to his full seated height. “Do not make me push you off.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he teased, waggling his brows. “You know you find me charmin’.”

The most vicious sneer flickered over Hanzo’s face and McCree realized a split second too late his mistake in challenging him. Hanzo was shockingly strong, shoving him with enough force to nearly send him off the edge. He barely managed to brace himself in time. He teetered, grabbing at the frame of the walls for dear life. “Okay, okay sorry!” he laughed, risking letting go of the frame with one hand to push Hanzo away. Thankfully his arm was longer than Hanzo’s and he could hold him back. “You don’ have to try t’murder me to make your point,” he laughed, letting go when the man stopped pushing. 

There was a long moment of just his breathe. “Perhaps I overreacted.”

“You think?” McCree couldn’t bring himself to be mad though. “Had me thinking I was going to meet my maker for a shitty joke.” He cautiously relaxed a bit, scuffing one boot against the other. “You know that mess with the bull, get the horns, applies pretty perfectly to you actually. Tease you too much and you try to push a man to his death.”

“What?” Hanzo was obviously surprised, tilting his head to the side in the most charming way. He pulled back onto himself slightly, shoulders curling in. “I…” those high cheekbones staining scarlet. It really accented the rich brown of his eyes. Confusion clear on his face. It was replaced with chagrin after a moment.

“No need to apologize, darlin’,” McCree smirked, leaning over a bit. “Easy misunderstanding…”

The man just huffed, giving him an eyeroll. “Shut up, cowman,” he held his hand out towards McCree. “Give me your phone.”

The firefighter couldn't help the huge smile on his face. He was going to get the man’s number. Even if it was obviously a grudging gesture after the misunderstanding. He could work with that. 

He handed the phone over, not even considering that it might get smashed or thrown, letting his fingers linger against Hanzo’s. He hummed excitedly. It had been too long since he’d had a chance to dance with danger this closely.

Long fingers delicately tapped through the phone, holding it gingerly in one hand. McCree noticed how dirty the screen was with a wince. The contacts were drawn up and Hanzo entered his details quickly enough. 

“Well would you look at that,” McCree whistled appreciatively as he took the phone back. He made sure there was actually information saved, not putting it past the man to just write in some cutting remark. There was a rustling and when he looked up, Hanzo was gone. There was the faintest crunch of leaves and grass below. “What the?” he leaned forward, looking over the edge to see Hanzo disappearing into the shadows of the yard. He was gone out the back gate before McCree could get down the ladder.

He was headed towards the back gate, wanting to at least say goodbye. He didn’t like the feeling that he’d literally scared the man away with all his flirting and teasing and getting him twisted up.

“Jesse, how’d it go?” 

He groaned in frustration, stopping to see Jack coming through the sliding glass doors. “It went fine, Captain.” he tried to keep his voice neutral. “Made good progress.”

“On Hanzo?”

McCree bristled, his gaze turning dark. “On the treehouse. If you want him to do it so badly, you go beg him yourself.” He snapped, unable to put up with this plot any longer. Not with his phone burning a hole in his pocket. “I wont do it. I’m not going to try to trick him into agreeing. How much money would that be anyway? A hundred thousand? More? You’re asking too much, Jack.”

The man looked blindsided, stopping with the door still open behind him. The soft sounds of Hana and Angela playing drifted out. He was about to say something but Jesse didn’t want to hear it. “I’ll be back next Saturday to finish the treehouse,” he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Leave me out of your scheming from now on.”

He was out the back gate before Jack had a chance to try to pull him back into the mess.


	3. Deserving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two men struggle with their anxiety and depression, questioning their self worth and their ability to make a connection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains some angst and a homophobic/internalized homophobia scene but not much. Also they are both smitten dirty teenagers at heart

Hanzo pressed his back into the fence, heart in his throat. The shadows wrapped tight around him, keeping him safe from view. It had been a reflex, to hide at the sound of Jack’s rough voice. He hadn’t meant to spy on their exchange. It had happened too fast, caught between running to that stupid rented truck and calling for a driver to take him home. He had simply frozen, a statue beside a well tended shrub.

The cowman burst through the back gate, slamming it behind him. P _lease don’t look._ McCree stormed forward, straight across the lawn without looking back. The agitation clear in the hard line of his powerful shoulders. He practically threw himself into the old pickup parked on the street and before Hanzo could decide whether to call out or not, he was gone.

His face felt hot, a blush creeping over his neck and ears. 

McCree had… stood up for him. Against a man that had power over him, he had stood up for what he believed was right. 

_He is an honorable man._ Even though the man obviously had no idea how much his services cost, it was still almost sweet. When had someone stood up for him like that without calculating the benefits. 

Guilt pooled in his stomach, dampening the fires there. He had lost his temper just moments ago, falling into an old version of himself when he had thought McCree had disrespected him. It had been instinctual, deeply ingrained reaction that he hated. He wasn’t that man anymore. He wanted to forget he had ever been. He was no longer bound to that twisted view of honor.

The fresh memory of McCree under him sparked through his thoughts. Those brown eyes wide with shock, full mouth parting. The way his larger body was languid beneath him, inviting exploration. Hanzo had been considering beating him for his transgressions until he’d seen that relaxed, welcoming look in McCree’s eyes. The man had no working sense of fear or propriety. 

_He was excited,_ the thought stained Hanzo’s cheeks red as he waited for his driver. He hadn’t missed the dilation of his pupils or the much more telling bulge straining against those jeans. There had been a moment when all he had wanted to do was punch him in that smug beautiful face or ravage his insolent mouth to shut him up for once. 

This mind stormed with those thoughts, trying to push them away and regain his own composure. The driver did not say a word, opening his door with a bow and ushering him inside. He spent the ride home with his eyes closed, focusing on his breathing. He needed to gather himself. He was no horny teenage to get worked up just because someone had cared enough to defend his honor.

_He_ ** _definitely_** _owns chaps,_ he put a hand to his face, covering his mouth to stifle the chuckle trying to bubble up. Trying to stifle the heat flaring in his chest straight to his groin. He did not have a thing for cowmen, it was low class.

The dangerous thoughts kept him busy on the ride home, focusing on not following any of those fantasies. Or memories of that stripper Genji had gotten him. Did all chaps come off that fast? 

He was resisting the urge to google how chaps attached as he walked up to the nice apartment building. The doorman greeted him with a small bow and ushered him into the sleek glass and marble foyer. The giddiness faded from him, replaced with a dull ache. He had once loved this place for it’s grandeur and luxury. It felt cold and empty now. The fountains did nothing to lighten his spirits, the elevator’s attendant only made him feel detached from the world. From the common people that would never experience his lifestyle or be able to enjoy the opulence they worked in.

A sigh weighed heavily on his lips as he punched in his code, waiting for the security sweep to complete before the door opened. It wide open living room was dark and empty except for two sleeping cats. Even with the bright lighting, it felt dull and stale. The loneliness of pristinely maintained living. There was not a single thing out of place. It felt like a show home, devoid of life. 

He felt it sharply after a day in the company of someone so warm and full.

Forcing those thoughts away, he went to shower and change into clean clothes. It helped improve his mood slightly, even if bathing alone in the massive walk in shower seemed a waste sometimes. He found his routine to be comforting, making dinner for himself with some low music in the background. Perhaps he would be frivolous and rent a movie and laze in bed for the rest of the night. Maybe he would rent a western.

He wondered if McCree could ride a horse. Surely those thighs had the power needed and those strong hands could tame the wildest stallion, that wide lazy smile, his confusing way of speaking. How his name sounded on those lips. 

Hanzo straightened, clearing his throat in the kitchen. His slacks suddenly a little too tight. Dangerous thoughts to be having. 

The knife in his hand wavered, settling on the cutting board. What would it be like to have a companion after all these years of seclusion. Was he worthy of finding someone that could bring him joy and peace, fill his life with vibrant colors. Did he deserve it after all he had done.

He pulled the sleeve on his left arm down to his wrist, hiding the reminder of his transgressions. That time of his life had been buried back in Hanamura with his father. It had been nearly ten years and no one had tried to kill him or drag him back to uphold the family honor. The only thing good that had come from Hanamura was escaping with Genji to the states.

A _nd Him…_ he swallowed, focusing on slicing the carrots. The memories still came, shaken loose undoubtedly by the Cowman. The stranger from his youth, a cocky, punk running with a rough crowd. The arrogant way he walked down the street, head and shoulders taller than most. The glower of teenage rage making those eyes like beckons. The smell of gunpowder had clung to the man, bitter and sweet. His gangly confidence of a man growing into his body, alluring and destructive. 

Desperate and greedy, their feverish eyes meeting across the bar. The instant terrifying attraction, new and strange. Forbidden doors opening in his young mind. In that moment it had all become clear and the woman at his side had felt it. She had left without a word and Hanzo smiled at that young man, sealing his fate.

Hot, angry kisses, fueled by fear of discovery and the rebellion of youth. Pressed against a tree, his back brushing and then the turn. Those brown eyes looking up at him, pressing his own need to the american, his own violent type of desire. Fueled by self hate, an emotion they had both felt. Hatred for what they did, hatred for what they were, hatred for who they loved. All the emotions tumbling out of them between needy moans and fumbling hands.

A shaky sigh escaped while he blinked back sudden tears. It was too much. The knife clattered to the counter, too dangerous to hold right now. Remembering that time in his life. How he had desired that man with a destructive force, hating that he had never felt such fire with a woman. Shame and hate and need. After the american had left his with gang, left to go home, all he had was the shame and hate to keep him company. He had taken his hate for himself and turned it against others. Towards his own brother. 

The soft plop of tears on the counter was the only sound in the empty apartment. Memories flashed in front of him, bloodied fists and screams of pain, the encouraging words of his father and council. Pleas for mercy and promises of better behavior drowned out, to be someone that would uphold the family’s honor.

Hanzo stumbled away from the counter, panic overtaking him. His skin too small. His heart thundering and yet his head was light, sickly sweat pouring down his back. He had to calm down, he had to get ahead of the anxiety smashing over him.

He made it to his bedroom before he started to break down. The sobs forcing him over, holding onto him self as he dragged open the door of his closet. The neat rows of color coordinated shirts and trousers jostled roughly to the side. It was quiet here, dark and warm as he sank to the floor. His knees drawn up to his chest. Shaking violently, breathe ragged.

Bloodied fists, terrified eyes, his father looming over him with a knife. [Y _ou have been nothing but a disappointment. First your brother and now you. A dishonored. A stain on our name. Faggot.]T_ he words rang in his ears, hearing them on repeat. The scars aching as if the wounds were freshly cut. He just curled up desperately, clinging to the reality of the cold wall at his back, the hard floor beneath him. Anything to keep him in the present instead of engulfed in the past.

_I’m safe, Im safe, I’m safe, Genji is safe, father is dead, he can’t hurt us anymore,_ he chanted to himself, riding out the panic. He was so alone, not even his cats coming to investigate his sobs.

* * *

 

McCree grumbled, chewing on the end of his cigarillo out on his tiny apartment balcony. He knew he shouldn’t smoke anymore. It hadn’t aged well since he’d started at 16 with the gang. It was hard to quit entirely though, his oral fixation not calmed by chewing ice or gum. He grunted, pulling the unlit smoke out of his teeth. He knew what his therapist would say about it. “Sexually frustrated m’ass,” he twirled it in his fingers. 

He just hadn’t met anyone in a long time that made it worth the risk and He could calculate a risk with the best of them. When to charge into a burning building and when to just try to save the surrounding houses. He had charged in too hard with too many relationships in the past, seeking a specific thrill he could never quite catch. It had been like lightning and even the best, wildest tumbles had just left him felling tired in the end.

He was mighty tired right now. The day’s work had been good but it was the way it ended that weighed on him. He should have told Angela right from the start that he wouldn’t so much as consider trying to give hanzo a good time. Because now his head was spinning. The phone burning a hole in his pocket, begging for him to text the man.

Guilt kept him from doing it, at least for the moment. He felt unclean, just from the thought of trying to trick someone into… into what he wasn’t sure. Sleeping with him and feeling guilty enough about it to design a fire station for him? What would he have had to do exactly to persuade the architect to do them the honor? 

He bit down on the cigar, grinding it as he tried to keep his mind on anything but the terms and conditions. Was Hanzo the type of guy that wanted to be on top? Originally he had read him as that, so angry and aggressive, stalking like a tiger about to pounce. But something in the way he blushed at being called beautiful made McCree want to push him down and draw out all those long soft sounds he just knew the man could make.

_His skin looked so smooth,_ the thought wormed in, pleasant and sparking a host of others. They were tangled, not sure how they would fit together. How would Hanzo’s smaller body feel under him. He fought with himself, holding back with what little remained of his self control.

“Yer an adult for christ’s sake,” he grunted, rubbing his face with the heel of his palm. The flesh was warm. Too warm and suddenly he was too. He tucked the unlit cigarillo into his jacket pocket and went back inside. He needed to cool down.

There was trash everywhere. Dirty cups and plates scattered over the coffee table and on the floor. Clothes mixed in, some dirty some probably clean if not for the dust. It clung to everything he owned, marking just how lazy he’d been when not at work or out in the world. Out there, it was easy to look like he was keeping everything together. All it took was a half clean flannel and some jeans. And running a hand through his hair a couple of times.

A grimace twisted his mouth as he felt his hair now. It was tacky and greasy from sweat. He needed a shower. That would help with both his problems.

He waded through the mess, stepping on something gross he didn’t want to think about. Not bothering with getting fresh clothes, he just stripped out of his sweaty shirt. Thick chest hair ran down his stomach, almost connecting with his happy trail. He probably needed to shave or trim at least. The effort it would require didn’t seem worth it, especially when he wasn’t with anyone. The last guy had made him shave everything, saying his was disgusting for it. McCree rather liked looking rugged himself and unkempt like he was living on the trail.

Shucking his jeans was next, kicking them off, leaving them where they fell. His thighs hurt from climbing the ladder up and down all day. He absently rubbed one as he entered the tiny bathroom. There wasn’t even a bathtub, just a shower that was too small for his bulk. Boxer briefs landed half in the sink and he stepped into the water, not even bothering to let it warm up first.

He hissed as it struck him, making him shiver and wrap his arms around himself. He really needed to get a new apartment, maybe try to find a little duplex to rent even. Mostly he just wanted a little bit of yard. Just a nice bit of green to remind him of home with a fence. Maybe he’d even get a little dog, something to give him an excuse to go to the park and get out of the house. His therapist would be happy with that. As it was, he tended to live in the narrow space between the fire station, Jack’s house and his own shitty apartment with his own shitty company.

Soaping up absently, he let his mind wander. A nice little house with a cute yard, maybe some flowers, with a couple dogs running around chasing squirrels and a couple of cute kids playing cowboys and indians. Grilling and drinking with friends on a summer night, kissing his love under the tree or curling up in some of that tacky lawn furniture. He could wrap them up with his serape, looking at the stars.

He shook his head, cursing his own sappy heart. “I really am a idiot,” he chuckled, running his hands through his hair as he got to actually showering instead of just standing around.

* * *

Hanzo breathed steadily, listening to his brother ramble on about something in his ear. The morning air was crisp and clean, the tight black underarmor shirt kept him warm. It was chilly this early, steam rising from his mouth with each measured exhale. The heat felt good deep in his chest, burning out the anxiety that had haunted him over the last week since his panic attack.

[Zenyatta and I have enjoyed our stay here very much!] Genji rambled into Hanzo’s ear. [It is truly one of your best works. I can not believe you did not want to join us.] He could hear the sounds of a party going on, probably with too loud music and too many people packed in tight.

[Perhaps next time, Brother. Work has kept me too busy to indulge in such luxuries.] He didn’t begrudge his brother and his paramour of the moment. A young monk from Nepal with a mysterious past. He frowned, picking up his pace slightly as if he could run ahead of his anxiety, trying to convince himself that he liked his life.

His life was stable and predictable. That was what he wanted. Just a steadiness of days.

Just like his morning run, precisely 6:15am to 7:30 am every week day in the nearest city park. It had gently rolling hills with plenty of trees providing privacy and a large lake with strange fish in it that would sometimes burst from the water. At times, he would pause after his jog to mediate by the edge, calming his mind before the madness of work.

[Had time to indulge in anything else?] 

Hanzo frowned sharply, unconsciously lifting his chin. His brother was a meddler and playboy. He focused on keeping his voice innocent and vaguely disinterested, checking his smart watch. This was mile three of his normal 7. [I do not know what you mean, Genji.] 

[the cowboy of course!]

[He is a fool. Like I told you.] Hanzo rolled his eyes, passing another early morning jogger. [I was a fool to even mention him.]

[It sounded like you had fun,] Genji’s voice was as bouncy and happy as always. [Next time I’m in the states, we will have to go out with Jack and Angela and the Cowboy! And I can introduce you to Zenyatta.]

Hanzo chuckled, focusing on the even pathway ahead of him and the graceful trees lining the way. [If you ever come home, I agree to take you out with our friends.]

[Aaaaaah, home is so boring though. You are boring!]

[I am responsible.]

[It is the same thing!] Genji complained in his ear. [Bring your cowboy here! We can all go to the local hot springs. I hear they do wonders for virility if that is your worry.] 

[Goodbye, Genji,] Hanzo hung up before his little brother could spout more frustrating none sense. Or put more ideas into his head about soaking in hot springs with a certain stupid, sweet, cowman.

A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth as he rounded the bend, feet drumming out a light tap, tap, tap. He would not let himself be sucked into these thoughts again. There was no room in his life for another person, much less another man. He was too rusty to try to find a boyfriend and casual sex had never appealed to him in the way it did his brother. There was too much hurt and tenderness in him to risk letting a stranger charge in.

There was also a mountain of work waiting for him at the office, business lunches and out of country deals. Then there was his charity work and the Family requesting his presence back in Hanamura. He had no intentions of going home. That was another thing he couldn’t think about now. there would be time later. Sometime when he was mentally stronger, he would deal with all of this. He would focus on staying busy. His therapist considered this avoidance of his real issues. He resolutely called it a business plan.

 

McCree hummed an old cowboy lullaby. A groggy six year old curled up in his lap while a cartoon about card games played on his big screen. “You doin’ good sugarplum?” he gently stroked Hana’s hair, getting it out of her eyes. He had showed up to the Morrison’s house at 6am. Emergency surgery demanded Angela’s return to the hospital and Jack was at the firehouse still. The man really needed to get some time away. Maybe then he wouldn’t be such an entitled asshole. 

“I’m tired,” she looked it too. There were dark circles under her eyes. 

“I know, hon,” he sighed, wondering if things would calm down for her. He wanted her to have a stable home life but he worried. Her parents both had high profile, high stress jobs that kept them out of the house. The shuffling couldn’t be good for her though. He was touched she had chosen him to watch her. He knew Angela was happy too. He never let the six year old in his place, besides it was too filthy to let a child just run around. It was less embarrassing too.

“Hungry yet?” he wiped some crusties from the corner of her eye. She just shook her head before leaning back into him, tucked up under a red blanket with a gold pattern around the edge. A mysteriously sticky hand coming up to fist in his hair. He didn’t mind, slouched down into the overstuffed leather couch. hHe was tired too. In more ways than one.

He had finished a shift just a few hours ago himself. It had been a busy night. Three runs with the local EMT to haul the wounded out of the house, one with a heart attack, the other a broken leg and the last a domestic abuse case with some gnarly damage. A small fire had added some extra excitement to his night.

No one had been hurt thankfully. He had even managed to save the family’s cat. The little gray sweetheart had clawed into his protective suit and not let go, not even when the fire was out and he was sitting on the truck. Little thing had hung out in his half unbuttoned top, a oxygen mask over it’s tiny face. Eventually the owners had gotten cleared and come to retrieve their pet.

Hana shifted, putting her head on his shoulder. The little thing was already asleep. Angela had been sure to tell him how much she loved her treehouse, even unfinished. She had insisted on sleeping in it as soon as they got the railing up. He wished he could have seen her face. She was the little angel none of them deserved.

He let her sleep, knowing he wouldn’t be able to himself for a while. The shift had him all stirred up. The stress of the job got to him sometimes. He shifted, turning the tv to a cooking show that was half weird mini games and half actually making food. It was distracting in a good way.

Combining it with his phone, he was sure to keep his mind occupied. He had cleaned the screen since last Saturday. He found his thumb hovering over Shimada’s number, wondering if the man would be up yet. Morning phone calls weren’t cool anyway. It would come off too weird. Maybe an afterwork call, ask him out to grab a drink or maybe dinner. Would that be too serious sounding? Maybe he could just text him.

_What are you wearing?_ he typed it out, just to see how ridiculous it looked. He back spaced and tried again. _hey, it’s McCree. You know, the cowman._ He considered before shaking his head. _Howdy Pardner, how about we get a -_ he didn’t know how to finish that one. Did Hanzo drink? He had handled the craft beer like a drinker but somehow it was hard to imagine him in a bar.

Eventually, he just put the phone back in his pocket and let himself doze with Hana.

She didn’t let him sleep too long. It was just after 9 when he woke to the sound of the sliding glass door’s lock jiggling. He grunted, dragging himself from the soft cushions and stumbling to his feet. He was in a daze as he reached for his gun. Only to remember he didn’t have it. And then rolled his eyes, resting back on the arm of the couch

“Hana, you know you’re not allowed in the backyard without an adult.”

“But you were sleeeeeepin,” she complained, her hair sticking up crazily on one side. 

“Well I’m sure as hell up now,” he rubbed his face roughly, beckoning her over to him.

She huffed and pouted, sticking out her bottom lip but came over. “You’re not suppose to swear,” she pointed out, poking him in the leg.

“Mmhmm, I should watch my mouth,” he chuckled, trying to smooth her hair out. “Go get yer comb, Sugar,” he pushed her lightly towards the bathroom and she sped off.

She was back soon enough and sitting on the floor in front of the couch. “What do you want today?” he grinned, starting to work the comb through her long brown hair.

“French braid!” she bounced in front of him.

He laughed. “That’s an easy one! How bout’ I put a ribbon in it at least?”

“Only if it’s pink! I want one like uncle hanzo’s!”

He blinked, caught off guard. He had forgotten just how close she was with the Japanese man. It had always struck him as odd. Until the birthday party. He might be a jerk with a stick up his cute ass but he cared about Hana.

That brought other thoughts that he pushed away. He wasn’t going to get involved with someone he couldn’t even figure out how to text. It would be too complicated anyway. Jack and Angela’s friend and a powerful business man. He was just some fire fighter, barely making enough to keep his place and pay on his debts. 

Skillful fingers quickly plaited Hana’s hair in a neat french braid, making sure to tease and tickle her scalp and ask her about school and her little friends. Apparently some neighbor boy Lucio had been playing in the treehouse with her already. And he thought that a treeswing would be the coolest thing ever. 

“Ain’t he a smart kid,” he chuckled, knowing there was rope in the backyard that was going to eventually be a rope ladder. There would be enough left over for a swing he bet.

“He’s so smart! He is really nice too and put a bandaid on my knee when I scraped it,” she was quick to show him the frog bandaid.

“Well I’ll be, sounds like you made a good friend, darlin’,” he dug around in a pocket, finding one of his own miniature hair bands. He finished off the braid with it and patted her shoulder. “Go find your ribbon.” 

While she bounded off to find it, he put his own hair back in a small low ponytail. It didn’t keep the hair around his face back but at least it wasn’t on his neck anymore. 

Before long they had moved into the backyard playing underneath the tree house. It was a warm golden feeling, anything to keep Hana happy instead of missing her parents.

* * *

 

It was late at the office and Hanzo was alone.

Emails and project quotes filling his inbox, reminding him there was always more work to do. The city’s proposal in the center of his desk seemed to be antagonizing him. He needed to finish reading it. It would be a large job sure to garner media attention. It would be good for his company and for his people. His staff was skilled and passionate and well compensated.

_I could give the public works team a bonus,_ he mused, idly flipping through the paperwork. Sarah was pregnant with her first child and her husband had just been laid off. _But this would require many late nights and weekends._

He weighed the options carefully, getting lost in his thoughts as the clock marched relentlessly forward. They began to go down rabbit holes, tangling and twisting. They kept skipping over last Saturday, unsure where to settle. Especially that evening, the taste of beer and smell of sweat. Warm brown eyes, a ridiculous smile.

A sigh escaped him. He was too old to be distracted by such things. Except he wanted to be. He rose from his massive desk, stretching out the stiff muscles of his neck and back. He was still sore. Muttering to himself in his native tongue, he pulled on his suit jacket and carefully retied his hair.

The proposal laying tauntingly on his desk. He shook his head, turning the light off in his office. He was not working effectively tonight. His time would be better spent at home clearing his mind and easing his muscles.

He was neck deep in blissfully hot water the moment he walked through the door. Soaking up the smell of warm wood and the vanilla musky incense he prefer. His two lovelies were entertaining themselves. Miku was walking along the edge of the tub, occasionally reaching a paw to bat at the surface. His lazy boy was draped elegantly in the window, head on his paws and long tail gently swishing back and forth.

The heat enveloped his body, easing his worries and muscles in equal measure. This was the ultimate indulgences.

Genji’s voice popped into his head. [Indulge in the cowboy!]

Hanzo foughtblush and an uncomfortable flare of heat in his groin. He was not going to think about the cowman, especially not naked in the silky water. Miku meowed in agreement it seemed, coming over to demand attention. It was a safer outlet.

[Who is my precious kitty? Who is a good boy?] he crooned, drying a hand on the towel beside him before giving the cat the love it deserved. These two inky balls of love would never judge him for his past or future. They simply loved. 

They didn’t expect him to give millions away in free work either. 

He had not spoken to Jack about the fire station to accept or deny the request. He knew it was on his desk officially even now. The city offering a pittance to design the station compared to what it was worth.

It would not have been a hard decision if Jack had not added that one stipulation to it. The one thing that truly kept him back from agreeing. It was a good cause and for good people. He just… couldn’t reconcile the condition. 

If he was being honest with himself, it was more that he didn’t want Jack to win that easily. He wouldn’t fall for the obvious trapped that had been laid. The bait was sweet but he wasn’t a young man to be swayed by his desires.

The debate raged on him his head as he rose from the tub, steaming lightly. The curtains were open but he did not care. He was on a high up floor and even if someone had been looking, he had few concerns with nudity. He had bathed with many men and women in his homeland, sometimes with towels and sometimes not. 

There was nothing to hide anyway, catching his reflection on the glass and smirking. He might be on the shorter side compared to american men, but he rippled with muscle. There was no softness on him anywhere. The strict training continued to pay off even if he no longer needed to scale building and escape assassins.The dragoon tattoo crawling down his left arm was a reminder of those times. A weary sigh parted from him, wilting his broad shoulders and he lowered his head. The mark of his past following him, an ever vigilant keeper.

Picking up MIku, he made the way to his bedroom to put on sweatpants and slide into the massive bed. Cool silk sheets caressed him like a lover, the heavy blanket provided a sense of security. He was still cold, feeling the loneliness that even a warm furry friend couldn’t displace. He argued with himself. He would give himself an out but also an in.

Despite the late hour, he pulled out his phone. Angela would still be up, probably doing paperwork at home after her shift. //I wish to speak with you in person.// he hit send before he could reconsider. 

The reply came almost immediately. //hi, love. everything okay? how about breakfast tomorrow?//

//I would prefer a run at the park//

//feeling anxious? are you sure everything is alright?//

//I just want to speak to you about a delicate topic.Meet at 9am, by the swan statue//

She replied with a burst of emoji’s he wasn’t able or willing to decipher. He assumed by the cactus one that she was making assumptions about his sudden interest in meeting. He rolled his eyes, turning his phone’s ringer off with a decided click.

* * *

 

McCree glared daggers at his phone. He would kill whoever was texting him at 3 in the morning on a work night. He had been having a good dream too. At least the uncomfortable bulge pressing into the mattress suggested it. “Fuck,” he groaned, looking down at himself sleepily. He didn’t have the energy to do anything about his situation for the moment.

It took two tries to get the phone off the nightstand, almost knocking it to the floor. He did knock over a mostly empty beer can. “Fuuuuck.” the sound of beer dripping promised a sticky spot and more ruined carpet. He was never going to get his deposit back.

The light from his screen hurt his eyes. He muttered out more curses as he put in his code and thumbprint, pulling up the text. It was from “Mercy,” which wasn’t unusual. She forgot people had normal sleep schedules. Well his was not normal but this week he wouldn’t be up before noon. She was fucking the damn fire chef, he wrote the schedule for christ sake.

He was ready to give the woman a piece of his mind as he scrolled through her page of text. Thanking him for watching Hana the other day and wondering if he could take her and two of her friends to hike by the lake next Saturday and then a winking face with one of her weird breakfast emojis with a question mark and a dollar sign. 

//i’m gettin’ 2 momosas// he huffed but not one to turn down free food, especially if it was from that fancy little bistro by Grant Park. 

//Perfect love, I am sure you’ll enjoy the morning! meet in Grant park, 9:15 sharp!//

He rolled his eyes, almost reconsidering before he caved. He would get his ass up early and make it over there. She was probably going off to surgery right after and couldn’t wait too long. //fine//

//by the swan statue, make sure you look nice! take a shower at least!//

He ignored her last text, setting his alarm to the new much earlier time before turning the phone on silent. he half heartedly tossed it at the nightstand. He really needed to clean his place up sometime. It could wait though, he needed to sleep… needed to get back into that dream, something from his past that he couldn’t quite remember.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some silly and cute and sexy? chapter to make up for the angsty one. Plus I don't know what i'm doing. I hope you enjoy this unedited mess.

Hanzo delicately enhaled the aroma coming from his drip brew coffee from the bistro down the street. The trees swayed above him, an occasional leaf drifting down. Tight black leggings hugged his every muscled curve. It was too cold for shorts in his opinion. An athletic long sleeve shirt complimented his chest and showed off the heavily muscled arms. He had already been to the archery range, happy with his performance. 

This run would be for more spiritual purposes. A chance to stretch out and burn some anxiety with Angela. She could keep good pace with him for the first few miles at least. After that, they would have one of their gossip fueled chats while feeding the ducks.

It was rare that she was late however.

It was already past 9 and he was growing impatient. He itched to run, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. he stretched his arms, arching over his head and then bowing down to touch his toe tips. Regular yoga kept him flexible and strong. Genji routinely teased him that he should get on a pole. 

_Disgusting._

He would never lower himself to showing his body off for merely money. The thought of it in general was actually rather intriguing. He would be excellent at it like he was at everything. He straightened up and rolled his head and neck.

It was after 9:15 and he was done with waiting. He tossed his empty cup into the trash. Angela could catch up when she got here. He shrugged and turned, bumping into something warm and solid and covered in soft flannel. He got a nose full of it and a heavy scent of woodsmoke and maple. 

Hanzo pushed back instinctively but was caught my iron arms. “Unhand me!” he glared up at the soon to be dead attacker and froze. 

_Fuck_

It was the cowboy, looking heavenly in the early morning light. Chestnut hair slightly mussed by the wind, cheeks flushed in the chill. God those eyes were sparkling. He registered that McCree was saying something but he didn’t catch it. His ears rang with his heartbeat.

“Earth to Hanzo?” 

He startled out of it, processing the english now and he shoved at McCree’s chest.

“My apologies,” he broke free of McCree’s arms and half stumbled. “I… I am late for my run.” His ears were so red it hurt. 

McCree was laughing. “Woah there, sweetheart,” he man was daring to talk to him like he would a horse. “Unless yer wantin’ t’fall into my arms?”

Hanzo nearly punched him in the throat for his arrogance. And for keeping those large hands resting on his hips even now. “I would rather fall to my death,” he snapped, sweeping McCree’s leg to the side and pushing at his shoulder. The cowman went down with a spluttered yelp, tumbling into the grass. Hanzo resisted the urge to kick him in the side before turning to bolt down the path.

He was going to kill Angela for setting this up. It couldn’t be a coincidence. She didn’t show up to their scheduled meeting and McCree did instead. He was a fool. They were really pushing the cowman on him, as if he would just devour him in a fit of lust and be at their mercy. He wanted to rip his hair out.

“wow there, partner, slow down a bit.” 

He cast a glare over his shoulder at McCree trying to keep up with him. He was in jeans of all things but at least not cowboy boots. That would have been completely ridiculous. Hanzo tried to kill the man with a glare but was unsuccessful. Instead bolting down the path with all his considerable speed.

It wasn’t mature but he didn’t care. 

“Hanzo, sweethart, slow down,” McCree yelled, the sound of heavy footsteps behind him. 

The stupid tall cowman was keeping up. Hanzo took a hard turn to the left, leaping over the landscaping shrubs and making a beeline for his car.

A loud thud and yelp of pain made him stop. _fuck… why?_ he turned slowly, hands on his hips and resisting the urge to roll his eyes. The cow man was groaning half in a bush. there were leaves in his hair. _goddamit. he’s cute._

* * *

 

McCree winced as he started to get up, a sharp jolt of pain shooting through his shoulder. The angry japanese man was glaring down at him, thunderously. He couldn’t really blame him. “heh…guess i’m not as young as i used t’be,” he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. There were leaves in it and a few twigs. He fought down a blush as he started to get to his feet. 

A strong hand gripped his bicep, helping him up. He gulped, finding himself suddenly so close to Hanzo. The heat from his chest pressing into him. The man kept his hand on him for just a moment longer than was called for. Right? 

“I trust you are not injured?”

McCree swallowed, rolling his shoulder gingerly. “I guess… mightta strained something.”

“Hmm,” Hanzo’s eyes cut into him, examining too closely for comfort.

“but uh.. well i guess you’re here to meet Angela too?” He tried after a moment, looking to the side. Maybe they could finally clear up some of the mess between them.

“She has been quite busy with meddling,” the words were cold but then Hanzo smiled.

It sent a shiver down his spine. “i figure she has been.” He knew what Angela wanted him to do but he was done. Even if Hanzo stuck that nose in the air and walked away to never see him again. “Why don’tcha let me take you to breakfast and we can clear the air?” The silence dragged on, the eyes unreadable. “i know Jack and Angela’s been leaning on ya for… for stuff and i just wanted t’make it -“

“I will go to breakfast with you.” 

McCree drew up, startled as Hanzo looked up at him. There was the cutest shade of pink on his cheeks. “Well then,” he grinned, relaxing even as his own cheeks reddened. “there’s a cute place near here that’ll knock yer socks off.”

The walk to the little bistro was a little awkward. There was an easy silence, the two men not speaking much. Jesse couldn’t guess what Hanzo might have been thinking about. Well maybe the fire station situation but maybe just tea or his cats or something. He was trying not to think about wrapping his fingers around Hanzo’s little golden hair ribbon. It was a shorter one than he’d seen before. 

“Stop staring at me.” 

He gulped, holding the door open to the cafe and before long they were seated. “how i’m i suppose to not look at the most beautiful person here?” he chuckled, sliding into a chair on the little patio of the cafe. 

The waitress took their drink orders and gave them menus. Hanzo was silent, those dark brown eyes tracking the servers and other customers. He was waiting for something and Jesse could be a patient man, at least in small doses.

“So,” Hanzo steepled his fingers. 

Jesse smiled over the edge of his coffee cup. “heh… well this is, a little awkward, aint it?” he carded his fingers through his wild hair. Hanzo merely nodded, his cheeks still pink. “well… Angela and Jack are like family t’me but… they’ve been after me to convince you to…”

“Design the fire station.” Hanzo finished after a moment, taking a bite of his crepes with delicate movement. 

“and show you a good time,” he blushed, wondering just how bad that sounded.

Hanzo’s eyebrows shot up. “I see.” He looked away, the tendons in his neck jumping. 

“And i… well i ain’t in the business of tricking people and-“

Hanzo held up a hand, cutting him off more effectively than he wanted to admit. He rolled his eyes, always such a diva.

“I heard you talking with Jack that saturday. I did not mean to overhear but it was unavoidable.” Hanzo pierced him to his seat, nose slightly in the air. “I am not unaware of their schemes to throw you at me.” he waved his hand at Jesse. “in hope that you will be able to seduce me into donating my services.”

“S-Seduce?” McCree set his cup down too hard, ears staining red.

“Why of course,” Hanzo tilted his head to the side. The ribbons danced lightly in the breeze. “Surely they would not send someone such as you, if not for the purpose of clouding my judgement.”

McCree whistled softly, leaning back in his chair and stretching his long legs out. “So, you think i’m pretty hot then, dontcha?” he waggled his brows at the smaller man. The sneer was cutting, sharp and deadly as a blade. McCree just laughed and shifted, rubbing his foot against Hanzo’s ankle. The man jerked visibly, the sharp intake of breath not quite hidden. “though i’d rather seduce ya straight out instead of for somebody’d agenda.”

“you are ridiculous.” Hanzo rolled his eyes, pulling his feet back to his side of the table.

“you haven't stabbed me yet.”

“is that the standard in your dating life, McCree?” Hanzo chuckled, the sound a symphony in his mind. God he had it bad already.

“It has been in the past,” he grinned, relaxing in the chair. Their plates were cleared away.

Hanzo ran a hand along the shaved side of his head, the gesture making McCree’s pants grow suddenly a little too tight. “So you have not been attempting to persuade me to donate my services… why did you chase me in the park this morning?”

McCree hesitated for a moment, taking a drag of his coffee. “I don’t… rightly know,” he frowned at the dredges at the bottom. “I guess when i saw you running, instinct kicked in and i wanted t’chase.”

“a primal urge, then,” there was a hint of both disgust and something warm in his tone.

“Yeah, somethin’ like that… plus i wanted to … get things out in the open,” he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I know Jack’s stipulation and … if you do decide to help him, i don’t want it t’be skirting around this.”

* * *

 

Hanzo blushed just a bit at the offer. “Perhaps, knowing a man on the inside, would make it less abhorrent.” He shrugged, not committing. His heart was beating a little too fast. He hadn’t felt like this in years, well at least not without the glower of anxiety over him.

It still festered in his gut but along with it was the heat of intrigue. He wanted something new. Something different to shake him up. He wanted to let go. Besides, McCree was disgusting and annoying and cute as fuck and actually pretty enjoyable to be around. 

“you should make Jack pay plenty for tryin’ t’trick you,” McCree laughed softly, scratching that ridiculous beard. 

“Do you have an idea?” Hanzo snickered into his mug. “I am open to suggestions.”

The rest of the morning had been passed in casually plotting their revenge in increasingly more fanciful ways. Hanzo’s favorite so far had involved something called a “Ghost Pepper” and Jack’s toothbrush. It was fun to plot someone’s downfall without anyone actually planning on carrying it out. 

Eventually, they had to part ways. Hanzo had work to get done and McCree needed to catch a nap before his shift. His shoulder had stopped hurting thankfully. Otherwise Angela would have ended up seeing him after all.

“So, Pardner,” McCree caught his wrist in a loose grip, not trying to restrain. 

“Yes?” Hanzo sniffed delicately at the air, fighting down his instinct to sneer.

“Can I give you a call sometime?”

Hanzo tilted his head tot he side. Had the cowman forgotten? “You have my number.”

“Well… yeah, just wanted t’know if you’d be open to repeating the morning?”

“Do you plan on chasing me again, McCree?” Hanzo shifted his weight to the side. “it didn’t work out for you this time.”

“Didn’t it?” McCree tugged on his wrist, forcing Hanzo close to him. He crinkled his nose, trying to hid his embarrassment at the heavy smell of McCree. Ripe Peaches, maple syrup, cigarillo ash.

He gave a harrumph of amusement. His foot was suddenly between McCree’s pressing threateningly against his ankle. “Careful, McCree, or the hunter will become the hunted.” He gave a toothy smile sure to strike a proper amount of fear, at least playful fear, into the cowman.

The cowman just whistled and put a hand to his heart. “Oh darlin’ is that a promise?”

“Only if you prove yourself worthy prey,” he grinned, letting his knee brush against McCree’s thigh as he pulled himself away. “until next time, McCree.” He waved casually, turning away to head back to his car.

* * *

 

McCree settled back into his chair for a moment, letting out a low whistle. That had gone better than he’d hoped and now there wasn’t any confusion. Whether or not he decided to donate his firm’s time, Hanzo was interested in him. He was a weird guy but damn he was fine.

The waitress dropped by to ask if he needed anything and he took the hint. He gathered his thoughts and himself to head towards his truck. He needed to rest up before his shift and hopefully he’d have some nice dreams.

His phone beeped and he sighed.

It was Angela of course. 

//have a good time this morning?//

He rolled his eyes, sliding into his beaten up truck and heading for home. He wasn’t going to pander to her interfering by telling her it had worked out in the best way. He was more than happy to just make his way home and crawl into bed full of pancakes and the thought of Hanzo pressing him down into the covers. 

_i’m so fucked._ He groaned, sure that he was going to regret letting himself get involved in any of this. And yet hoping that it only got worse.

he didn’t manage to get much rest before his shift, dragging himself through a shower. the hot water running over his heavily muscled chest and torso. He absently scratched his hairy pec before washing his hair. he arched softly into the feeling, lathering up his wavy hair and beard before stepping into the weak stream. He would kill for a real bath, just one long soak to melt into the heat. 

He did his best not to step on anything gross as he made his way from the bathroom to get dressed. He was going to clean, he had to. this was the worst feeling. Clean feet on sticky carpet.

he was glad to be at the fire station thirty minutes later, it was much cleaner here. Even if he would be stuck with all the other crew members for essentially the next 72 hours. He had a locker and a bunk, not the worst thing. There was a shower that had decent pressure that they all packed into between shifts. The communal part didn’t thrill him and he hoped that was one of the things they would spring for in the new fire station. at least partioned off showers like at any decent gym.

For the moment, he was more concerned with Jack walking towards him. He waved, already feeling like he needed a drink.

“McCree, what happened this morning?” he clapped him hard on the back. 

McCree grimaced, resisting the urge to complain as his shoulder stung. “Nothing much, had a nice run in the park.”

“And something more than that,” the older man chuckled, bracing his hands on his narrow hips. “Hanzo just called to let me know he was going to donate a large chunk of the fire station and underbid the city’s architect.”

McCree resisted the urge to blush. “Wasn’t anything I did, but i’m glad t’have him on board.” He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering if this was going to end up being a bad decision after all. He had just spent half his morning fighting down a hard-on.

“Good, cuz i’m setting him with you,” Jack sneered at him, that boy scout looking way too smug.

“Fine,” McCree shrugged, holding down his rush of excitement and anxiety. 

* * *

 

Hanzo hummed to himself as he sifted through paper work at the office. The team was in good spirits. They had agreed that it was a good project to take on. It would bring in tons of good PR and they had already had a news station call to interview Hanzo. He had deferred them to more qualified members of his team. Jack had been called, letting the man cackle. He had won.

Hanzo didn’t care very much. He was in a good mood after his morning with McCree and looking forward to trying this new venture. His therapist had approved of it too. It helped him unburden the feeling of guilt and anxiety.

The staff had encouraged him to take a break and while this was not really a break from work, it was going to be refreshing. He just had to finish up his work here first. It was mostly boring authorizations and signing checks to pay contractors and for expenses and payroll. He was finishing up some time after sunset when his personal office line rang. 

He ignored it. They could leave a message and then he would have his secretary handle it.

“Hello, you have reached Shimada Hanzo.”

“Hey there, Darlin’,” a thick drawl brought his attention to the machine. “I was wondering if ya-“

“Please leave a message after the tone.”

The loud beep cut the cowboy off.

“What the hell?” he growled. “you gave me yer work number? are ya serious?”

Hanzo stiffled a laugh, picking up the phone before McCree could keep yelling. “Calm yourself, Cowman,” he soothed, keeping his voice deep and firm. “you have my attention now.”

there was a charged moment on the other line before McCree caved to a laugh. “I can’t believe ya Hanzo, givin’ a poor soul yer work number.”

“I am more available at work usually. It made more sense. I would not want to miss your call.”

“Shucks,” Hanzo leaned back in his office chair, closing his eyes to savor that voice. “you are even more of a charmer on the phone.”

“I have been told I have a pleasing voice.” He couldn’t help smirking, wondering what McCree was up to. The office was empty by now.

“That’s not the only thing.”

Hanzo smirked, a hand sliding over his thigh restlessly. “You are very forward, McCree.”

“I haven’t heard ya protestin’ though.” There was the sound of rustling and crinkling fabric. 

“Did you call for a reason?” he winced at how cold that sounded. What was wrong with him? 

There was a long pause and an awkward chuckle. “Yeah, i just wanted t’hear yer beautiful voice.” 

McCree was lobbing him a softball or maybe he was just way too hardheaded. 

“You will be hearing far more of it soon enough.”

“Lord, I hope so.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have been conflicted about this chapter for a while but I think this is the right direction now.
> 
> Sorry for the long gap between updates. If you're looking for something happier and fluffier, i suggest one of my other fics.
> 
> Unbeta'd

Hanzo looked down at his bag, brows furrowed. He was not entirely happy with his decision, wondering just how bad this was going to go. Hopefully quite bad. He double checked that he had proper clothes, phone and laptop charger, his favorite pairs of boxer briefs and all his shower gear. He had even packed a swimsuit and a couple of formal shirts. Preparedness didn’t hurt.

He was dressed casually today and for comfort. His hair pulled up in a crimson ribbon. Miku and Mika watching him get dressed with disapproving looks. They two cats tangled together on the bed. Angela would be coming over to watch them while he was “working” the next few days.

He slipped on a pair of sunglasses and headed out. He wasn’t in much of a hurry, stopping by his favorite bakery to grab a scone and a spinach pineapple banana smoothie. He was going to need his energy. There was a flask of sake in his bag though, not concerned with being too healthy.

The barista knew him by name and took good care of him. She was too busy flirting with her pretty coworker to really say much to him. Hanzo was fine with that. He wasn’t much of a charmer. 

He had almost finished his drink when he arrived at the fire station. Parking in the back like Jack had told him. The old fuck had been gloating for days, ever since he’d agreed. Hanzo had almost gone back on his word just to stick it to him but… the temptation to see Jesse had gotten the better of him.

They were on the same page now. Both interested and not for any gain.

Hanzo took a moment to check his hair in the visor mirror. He was looking good. He would make Jesse eat his heart out. He hopped out of the car, slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder. He locked the car up before heading in through the back door. 

Jack was there to greet him.

“Nice to have you on board, Hanzo,” He clapped the smaller man on the back.

Hanzo grunted. “I’m here to do you a favor, let’s not forget that.”

“I already did you a favor.” Jack nudged him with his shoulder before leading him into the heart of the station. 

Muscular, handsome men were all around them. They greeted Jack with friendly banter and Hanzo with interest. A few seemed to scent him out immediately, glaring before looking away. Hanzo mentally marked them as dangerous. There was another though that gave him a long sweeping look, obviously interested.

Hanzo raised a brow and looked away. He wasn’t interested in whoring his way around the fire station. Besides, he wasn’t into blondes. 

He really wasn’t paying attention to what Jack was saying at this point, looking for Jesse in every room they entered. The place was larger than he had expected and at the same time, smaller. The shared quarters were tiny, cots jammed together and the kitchen was little more than a hot plate and microwave. 

“and here are the showers, sorry we don’t have anything more private,” Jack opened the door to the men’s side. “its got lockers for your personal gear and basic toiletries for you to use.”

Hanzo didn't hear a word. His eyes fixated on a broad pair of shoulders and messy tangle of brown hair. He racked down the familiar back, biting his lip in longing at those cute little back dimples peaking above a towel. He wanted to kiss them. He wasn’t surprised when Jesse turned to face them, raising a hand in greeting.

Water still dripping down his chest, glistening as it gathered in just the right amount of chest hair. Dark nipples exposed and hard from the chill in the air now that the showers were off. The cut of his hips dragging Hanzo’s eyes lower, to the towel riding sinfully low.

It took every ounce of his will not to shove Jack out of the lockers and take McCree right there on the damp wooden bench. By the look on Jesse’s face, he was thinking the same thing. The air between them practically vibrated.

“Rule Number One,” Jack snapped, putting his hand on Hanzo’s shoulder. “No fucking in my fire house.”

“It never crossed my mind,” Hanzo murmured, voice slipping a few notes deeper.

“Jack, don’t say shit like that while i’m in a towel!” Jesse was laughing though, holding the towel up with one hand. “This, this is why we need private showers and stalls to change in. 

“Just keep it in your pants, you’re on the job.”

“Well technically my shift doesn’t start for fifteen minutes…”

Hanzo smirked, enjoying making Jack uncomfortable. The man was definitely not entirely straight but repressed. “I believe Jesse can give me the rest of the tour.” He left Jack’s side and lounged gracefully on the bench between them.

“Fine, just, remember the deal,” the blond snapped, throwing his hands up in the air. 

Hanzo kept a smoldering gaze on Jesse until they were alone.

They both broke out into peals of laughter.

“did you see his face? he looked ready to explode,” Jesse covered his mouth to stifle his laugh, turning his back to hanzo to open his locker.

“He is fun to tease,” Hanzo snorted, rolling his eyes. This whole live like a fireman for a week deal might end up being fun after all. 

 

—

 

Jesse smirked to himself as he dragged on his american flag boxer briefs. Hanzo had actually shown up and seemed to be much more honest than before. The attraction had been instantly and intense. He was willing his boner down as he put on his standard issue black trousers and black t-shirt with the station’s logo on it.

“C’mon, we’ll be late for roll call,” Jesse smiled down at the haughty man. He had his snoot up in the air, hair perfectly styled in a sleek bun. “hope you’re ready for this.”

“I am always prepared.”

Jesse rolled his eyes and offered his hand. The man took it and let himself be pulled up to his feet. They were stylish leather shoes, probably designer. _i’m going to enjoy this,_ he kept his smile to himself, leading the way out of the locker and into the main garage. The trucks were parked in neat lines, equipment ready to be checked as part of their daily routine.

Jack was standing in the open area to the side, a handful of firemen and EMTs already in place. They were just in time. Jack gave them a death glare but he just shrugged.

“Nice of you to join us,” Jack waved for them to come to the front. They went without much complaint. “This is Hanzo Shimada.” He put his hand on Hanzo’s shoulder. The man tensed visibly. Jack could have that affect. “He is the visiting architect you have been briefed on. He’ll be shadowing McCree and myself over the next 5 days to learn what we do here and what will make our new fire house fit our needs more appropriately.”

“Greetings,” Hanzo lifted a hand, radiating a warning.

Jesse understood why. He was bi and had made a point to bring girlfriends to the station and out to drinks with the gang. Some suspected he might have an interest in men but most were happy to believe he was straight.

Hanzo radiated an energy, something that didn’t sit quite right with the alpha males. He didn’t look stereotypically gay, nothing about his mannerisms would suggest it. For the first time, Jesse had reservations about this for real. Hanzo was built but these guys were ridiculously buff for the most part and more than a few could have an aggressive streak. 

His normally cheerful and friendly smile fell to a hard line. This was no longer just a joke to him or a chance to fool around. He shifted his stance, broadening his shoulders and planting his feet. He would protect Hanzo. 

A few of the men and women stepped forward, shaking hands and making light conversation. Zarya was smiling and even made the regal man laugh. She had charming eyes but would be the first to charge into a burning building or pick up a fallen comrade. Thankfully no one seemed likely to touch him, no more shoulder slaps or nudges. 

Hanzo didn’t seem intimidated by the crowd of much taller, bulkier men and women around him. Jesse started to relax as well, maybe he was just over reacting.

“Alright men, let’s get back on track,” Jack called them back to order and the crowd dispensed. Hanzo and Jesse joined them, now facing Jack.

Jack started to give out the day’s work. Jesse and Hanzo would be on truck #2 with Zarya, Gabriel and two others. The EMT team with them included his friend Sombra. She waved to them with a smirk. She worked the operating system and machines on the trucks. Gabriel had picked her up running scanners on an ATM near the station and persuaded her to update their terrible system. She’d upped their efficiency significantly.

They spent the rest of their morning with the routine checkups. Every bit of equipment on and off the trucks had to be inspected and documented that it was up to standards. Hanzo seemed bored but followed along at his side, sometimes taking photos with his phone and tapping out notes. He was taking it more seriously than Jesse expected.

They fell into a easy back and forth, information passing between them with the occasional snarky remark about Jack or the city. 

Jesse was relieved that Hanzo had picked up on the vibe and was acting very normal. There was no sexual tension between them, both in work mode. After the checkups were done and then they went to the in station gym. It was too small for the number of people on shift. Some out in the hall using free weights or just doing body exercises. The group with Zarya was doing sprints in the garage.

Jesse would normally go change into his workout clothes and join them but for today, they headed back to his cot. “Boring you to death yet?” he joked, easing to sit on one end of the hard cot. Hanzo perched on the other side. 

“Not entirely. I can see why you need a new station,” he said dryly, not looking up from his phone. “My staff is excited to begin the design.”

“I really can’t thank you enough for donating so much of the project,” he attempted to catch his eye. 

“Hmm.”

A flicker of annoyance went through him. Was the man just determined to have a bad time. “That all, buttercup?”

Eyes flicked up to him, cold and hard. “Please refrain from using such endearing nicknames while we are here.”

Jesse chewed on his lip, wanting to slide closer so they could sort this out. “So… outside of this place, I can call you all kinds of things?”

The man’s cheeks went red.

“Jesse, this is not a wise direction of talk.” He tucked his phone into his pocket. “I am well aware of the culture of firemen and…” he made a vague gesture with his hand. “such male dominated places.”

His chest felt cold, seeing something in Hanzo that reminded him of earlier days. When he had hated himself too.

 

—

 

Hanzo wanted to leave. Here he was an outsider in every sense of the word. He was a man that spent his days in front of a computer. A nerd and loser to these guys. And he was gay, a different degree of othering. 

The fun of flirting and teasing Jesse would have to wait till they had privacy. Whether that was in moments like this or stolen somewhere else. Jesse had given him a clear vibe that while at the station, in front of his friends and coworkers, they were nothing but acquaintances. 

It shouldn’t have bothered him. 

It just meant this was going to be actually work instead of a vacation.

He sighed, pulling his phone back out. Angela had texted him. He opened it, happy for the distraction. //How is your first day going? jesse taking good care of you? ;)//

//I am learning more about your husband and his profession. I thank you for your concern.//

“Do you really sleep on these hard cots?” he asked to fill the empty space.

A groan met his question. “If you can call it sleep. it’s more like laying here listening to these assholes snore.”

“hmm, more private bunking. I am not sure if apartments would make sense footage wise,” he mumbled to himself, jotting a few more notes. “Perhaps sleeping capsules would work better.”

“what are those?” Jesse leaned over. The smell of peaches wafting over him. 

He swallowed, ignoring the desire to run his fingers through that wild hair. “They are quite popular in Japan,” he pulled up an image. Ignoring the push notification of Angela’s text. “They provide privacy and comfort but not many Americans seem to find them acceptable.”

“damn, those are tiny,” he took the phone, holding it up closer to his face. “don’t you get claustrophobic?”

“I prefer close sleeping quarter,” he shrugged, “I find it comforting.”

“Just like, sleeping in tight spaces?” He asked hesitantly.

Hanzo feared he might have revealed more than he had intended. “Yes.”

“Be hard for you to sleep here then… out in the open with all of us.”

Hanzo nodded, not looking forward to it. Jesse’s genuine concern was endearing it. “I have very comfortable bed that will be missing me. and a deep soaking tub,” he sighed, already missing them. He wouldn’t enjoy showering with all of them either. 

“Damn… i’m jealous,” Jesse slumped back on his elbows. “afraid when you’re at my place this week, it’s only a shower and a pull out couch.”

“ ** _What?”_** He hissed, glaring daggers at his companion.

“well…shucks…” Jesse rubbed the back of his head. “I guess Jack didn’t tell you half the time would be with me on the off days. We do one on, one off here usually.”

Hanzo squeezed his phone so hard it creaked. So he had walked into this and deserved whatever torture it entailed. He didn’t know if he could spend 24 hours with Jesse at the station when he was working, much less 24 just following him around his day. _god i’m fucked,_ he breathed deeply through his nose. He knew exactly who was to blame for this. _I'm going to kill angela._

“sorry… i know…heh it’s not probably what you’re used to,” Jesse was sitting up, hands hanging. Elbows on knees and head down. 

He had hurt his feelings. Insulted him surely. guilt filled his stomach, moving over on the cot slightly. “that is not the problem.” He looked at the window, seeing sky and the tops of trees. He hated being open and saying what he was really feeling. his therapist’s voice was in his ear though, urging him to live honestly, to be honest with himself. “You are not the problem. Under other circumstances, I would… like to explore your apartment and perhaps… stay the night.” he swallowed to moisten his throat. 

He could feel Jesse’s gaze on him, intense but not hungry. there was a softness to him. It eased Hanzo’s anxiety. His hand on the edge of the cot, jesse’s joining it. They didn’t touch. 

“I’d… be delighted t’take you on a date. I’m sure there’s something we both enjoy t’do.” 

Hanzo loved his voice when he talked like this, deep and low, murmurs as if sharing secrets. “But… this feels so…”

“Manufactured,” Jesse supplied.

“Ah, exactly. This was orchestrated to force us together.” Hanzo sighed, turning his phone over. Angela had texted him again. 

“don’t know about you but… I’ve been raring to kiss you from the first moment i saw you. Looking so huffy with that terrible cowboy hat on your pretty head.” 

Jesse’s pinkie rubbed into his on the cot. Hanzo’s face was red and his heart throbbing in his ears. “I have felt… a similar inclination. I wanted to ravage your stupid beautiful mouth since that night when we built the treehouse.”

Jesse snorted, blushing himself. “you’ve got a way with words, Hans,” he ran a hand through his hair. “So… hitting pause till this is over?”

“That would be best,” Hanzo was relieved, feeling the tension drain out of his shoulders. The issue of fending off homophobia and his own desires put aside. They could just get to know each other more and when they could meet under normal circumstances. Then if sparks still flew, they could clash together and burn each other up.

The screaming alarm made him jump like he’s been stung. It rang through his head, too loud and out of pitch. He covered his ears, unable to stop from pouting as Jesse laughed at him. He didn’t seem bothered by the noise at all, hopping off. 

“C’mon hanzo! This is the best part,” he jogged down through the sleeping quarters to the pole going down to the garage. He grabbed on and disappeared with a yell.

Hanzo looked at it curiously, wondering if it was that easy. He gripped it in his hands, looking down at the 20 foot drop. Jesse was waving up at him. “Hurry up, we don’t got all day!”

Hanzo rolled his eyes, jumping up to grip the pole with his thighs and slide down. It was actually a lot of fun and he laughed, clenching to slow down as he neared the floor. Jesse reached up to steady him, hands on his back. “careful, most new recruits bruise their feet the first couple of times.”

Hanzo shrugged, using his arms to lift himself till his body was fully horizontal and then lowering himself. There were whistles of appreciation and he took a moment to flex for the firemen and EMTs. then they were all swept up in the rush to get into their gear and get the engine flying towards the distress call.

Hanzo was in the cab, squashed between Zarya and the driver. 

“Are you excited, Hanzo?” she asked, obviously trying not to crush him.

“it is a new experience.” he couldn’t keep a nervous laugh bubbling up, getting slung to the side as the truck took a turn far too fast.

“Just stay calm, it vill all be fine,” she patted his shoulder gently. “I appreciate what you are doing. We all do.”

“you’re welcome,” he smiled, finding the big woman’s presence comforting. She was straightforward. After all the scheming, it was a great feeling.

The house fire was pretty average he would later find out. To him, it had been surreal. He’s kept far back, not wanting to get in the way of the firemen working. He had taken notes on his phone, snapping a few pictures. This part of the job wasn’t really important to him for design but it was good to know anyway. He enjoyed watching Jesse work, the man confident and at ease as they put out the fire and comforted the family on the sidewalk. They house was still standing but they would need repairs.

Jesse was kneeling down in front of the little girl. She was hugging a stuffed animal fiercely. He couldn’t hear what they were talking about but it was clear he was a calming force. Before they left, he had even managed to make the girl laugh.

The ride back was more peaceful, the banter friendly and warm. There was plenty to be done once they got back and Hanzo stayed to himself. They firemen were cleaning and double checking equipment, sending soot smeared gear to the laundry and wiping down their trucks with care. 

Hanzo jotted down what he wanted to improve and fix to make them more efficient. There would be many improvements, both to the structure to allow more light and space and to the functionality. He wanted the station to feel bright and open, a home as much as a work place. 

The day went on, several more calls coming in but he didn’t ride out with them this time. He would rather poke around the far corners and dark closets, taking measurements and photos for his team. He wasn’t happy with the layout in general. it was from an older philosophy on using space and scaled for shorter and less people.

The place was quiet now, the other truck’s team was on the far side of the building eating dinner. Jesse’s was going to check a smoke alarm in an office building. He smiled to himself, sketching out what he wanted to do with the break room on his phone. 

He had found a place to work in peace, his back to the wall and knees half drawn up to his chest. it was easy to fall into his sketching, making notes to himself along the way and sending the photos over to Amelia at the office. She would disseminate them to the team, more for inspiration than anything. It was too early to really pick specifics.

The heavy thud of boots coming towards him nudged at his attention. He wasn’t willing to turn away from his calculations, deciding how many pillars would be needed to support the second floor. 

A shadow fell over him, broad and tall. Hanzo bit back a sigh. Of course, there was going to be trouble. There was always at least one alpha that just had to challenge him to prove his manhood.

“What?” He snipped, not looking up as he saved his file. 

“Too scared to ride the truck again?” a boot clunked into his foot. “not surprised.”

“I am working. Leave.” He really wanted to keep his temper. He really, really didn’t want to have to tell his therapist that he had snapped.

“you act so tough just because you can swing on a pole,” the sneer was clear in the bigger man’s voice. “is that were they found you, Faggot? are you here t’blow the chef’s special pet. bet you’re not even a real architect, you just sucking his dick too.”

Hanzo slowly and carefully put away his phone. Slowly rising to his feet, he only came up to the man’s chest. “Leave.” His voice was rough. Tendons jumped in his neck.

“or what, gonna fight me?” The man cracked his knuckles threateningly. “Or just stalling till you get rescued by that cowboy assfucker?” A hand struck his chest, knocking him back against the wall.

Reality peeled back at the corners, disappearing into a memory from when he was young overcoming him. He was young and hungry, and full of hatred. The strange asleep on his bed in his father’s castle. The cowboy hat on the floor. His father in front of him, the armed guards holding his arms back.

The words reverberated though his brain, tearing at him. “teach him a lesson,” the japanese was devoid of emotion, detached from his son. The blows fell, hard and fast. He took them until they had started in on his first lover. Everything melted red.

“Hanzo, hanzo stop!”

 

—

Jesse clutched Hanzo in his arms, lifting him off the ground. Chuck, their resident asshole was on the floor with a bloodied lip and a nasty black eye forming. Hanzo had been on top of him, eyes unfocused as he punched blindly. The floor taking as many hits as the man. “what the fuck man?” he growled, not loosening his grip. The man was wild.

Jack was screaming at them, shoving back the crew on truck one that was riled for a fight and team two from going after them. “Jack what do i do? What’s wrong with him?”

“fuck what happened here?” Jack stormed up to the fight. An EMT was already checking Chuck’s vitals and making sure he wasn’t concussed. 

“I don’t know, we came in and found them brawling. something’s wrong with Hanzo, he’s… he's freaking out.”

Jack looked concerned for a moment then back to chuck. A stony look fell over him. “What happened?”

“Faggot just went off on me, jumped me and started punching me,” Chuck grunted as the EMT helped him to his feet. 

“That’s what I thought,” Jack pinched the bridge of his nose.

It took all of Jesse’s will to not tackle chuck himself. The bastard, the fucking bastard just couldn’t help himself. He had to start shit.

Hanzo yelled something in Japanese, struggling harder for a long moment. Jesse squeezed him, forcing him to stay still. He needed to get Hanzo out of here, something was too familiar about this. Something triggering deep in his memories, fighting through the blackness of years of drinking to forget. “Im’ taking him home Jack. I can’t fucking believe this.” he hauled Hanzo up and over his shoulder.

The man started calming down as soon as they were in the car. Jesse buckled him in, checking his pulse. It was racing. He was having a flashback. it was clearly that now. PTSD from some terrible event in his life. He drove faster than he should have, speeding back to his apartment. he didn’t know where Hanzo lived. He called Angela on the way, demanding what he should do. She would know.

It was much what he would have guessed, keep him calm and keep him safe. Limited stimulus. He didn’t turn on the radio, driving in silence. Hanzo’s eyes were unfocused but he followed quietly up the stairs to his apartment. He couldn’t stop the sick feeling in his gut. He wanted to help, to make it better but what could he do.

He got Hanzo on the couch, wrapping him up in a blanket and putting a hot cup of tea in front of him. He sat on the other side, heart beating harder than if he’d just ran into a fire. 

At some point, Hanzo’s hair had come undone. It fell around his face from a natural center part. It pushed at him, memories threatening. He couldn’t deal with his own trauma right now, hanzo needed him.

Or needed something. 

“Hanzo,” he murmured, keeping his voice as low and soothing as he could. “you’re safe. its just us.” he kept this hands to himself. the man turned toward him. the light of the evening striking his cheekbones and turning his pale skin red.

_oh no,_ his hands started trembling. _it can’t be_

His head was spinning. It was impossible. The chances were astronomical. It had been so long ago in a desperate strong part of his life. This couldn’t be the same man. HIs hands were trembling as he reached for Hanzo’s.

He had never known his name, just that he was too important to be hanging out with someone like him. Too dangerous. something dark and threatening in every moment they stole together. Their romance clouded with violence that spiraled into bruising kisses and bites that broke the skin.

the name was slow coming, bubbling up from deep inside him. The only thing he had ever called his lover. Forbidden to know his name. “Kotaishi?” it was thick in his throat, stained with his accent just like back then.

Hanzo turned to him, a smile breaking over his face. “Kaubōi.” The smile shattered into realization and suddenly Hanzo was back in front of him. Japanese poured from his mouth, the man scrambling back on the couch and almost falling off. 

Jesse caught him by the wrist, pulling him back. “i can’t understand, please, hanzo?” he wasn’t going to let go for anything. The man struggled, Jesse fighting back the memories of when they had been caught. The bloodshed and beating they had both taken, he had barely escaped with his life and gotten out of the country. The yakuza had hunted him for years before a name change and leaving the southwest had given him a new start. it had been decades since those days. 

He had been in therapy, trying to finally deal with it but this… He was shaking, he couldn’t let him go. Hanzo was trembling. “Kotaishi, is… is it really you?”


	6. Chapter 6

Hanzo threw himself violently back, snapping the grip on his wrist. The world was spinning, he landed on his back on the floor. Where was he? Danger, danger, danger. He couldn’t breathe. Agony splintered through his hands. He scrambled to his feet, someplace strange. The thunder of heavy boots outside the door. The sear of hot heavy breathes on his lungs. The american cowboy asleep on his futon, blissful from their lovemaking. Bite marks on his shoulders and neck. Hanzo had found himself in the scruffy wild man and done what he shouldn’t. 

He had made such a mistake. Their sweetly exchanged words under cherry trees morphing into needy kisses and furious desire for more. For connection. For something real and honest in a world of hiding and pretending. The powerful strength of a boy just on the cusp of manhood, matching his intensity, unafraid. The trust in those chocolate eyes as they explored each others bodies, the heavily accented voice guiding him, teaching him.

He gasped, lashing out blindly. He struck something. He was shifting from past to present, mind glitching out. Some small part of him knew he was having a flashback. He knew he had to get somewhere safe. He had to cling to reality.

But what could he hold onto? There was nothing familiar. His senses betraying him. He could hear the doors opening, the shouts of outrage and hate. He reached out blindly, he needed something real. Something in the present. Anything.

His vision cleared, the small apartment coming into focus. He didn't know where he was, what was happening? He needed to hide. Bruised knees as he scrambled to his feet, springing to the door. It didn't open to a hall. A closet, full of winter coats and jackets, spare shoes and a few cleaning supplies. He didn’t care, he yanked the door closed after him, holding it shut with trembling hands.

A part of him urged that he call his therapist. But it was too dangerous, what if his father heard him in here? 

He put his forehead on the cool wood, hands clutched on the knob as a lifeline. The hard jab of a cowboy boot digging into his leg. His hands were sticky with blood. Heartbeats thundered in his ears, drowning everything out. 

Reality shifting around him. He clung to the pain of the boot under his shin. The cold of the metal. The quiet darkness soothing fried nerves. Breathe. Breathe a little deeper. There it was, something like a normal pattern. 

Time was liquid. Surging and slowing like waves as he wrestled his demons.

 

 

It took every ounce of his self control not to spring after Hanzo and drag him back. He could help him, hold him, kiss his temples and murmur quiet things until he calmed. But that was how _He_ would need to be calmed down. Not what Hanzo needed. It broke his heart, watching the panic strip the intimidating man down to a frightened boy again. 

He knew the terror and fear coursing through hanzo. It was in him too, the way the world could be so confusing. The flashback and the present fighting for dominance. He was holding back his own fear by a thread. He had done his best to forget that night. Drowning it in drink, blasting his mind with every drug he could get his hands on, burying himself in willing women desperately seeking a connection.

He had charmed and courted and bedded women. Even loved a woman once, tender and sweet and what the world wanted from him. It had been so easy, to just let everyone think he was straight. To hide in the safety of a pretty woman on his arm. He had not found happiness in pretending. The past still haunted him. That one man with regal features and wild eyes.

Jesse carefully sat down with his back against the wall, just to the side of the closet door. He would wait for Hanzo to come out. There was nothing he could hurt himself with in there. Jesse wasn’t the best at waiting but there was nothing he could do for his old love. Angela was texting him in a steady stream. So was Jack and Zarya and even Sombra. They were all so worried. Chuck had been fired. The police hadn’t been called. It would have caused a media frenzy. Instead things were handled quietly. 

Zarya was offering to find Chuck and finish him. Sombra already had all the dirt on the man gathered, ready to blast it on the media. Angela was offering to write a prescription for something to call Hanzo down. 

He didn’t want to think about any of that right now. The logistics of pressing charges or getting revenge. He just wanted Hanzo. He managed to keep his friends from doing anything stupid for the moment. He warned them not to come to his place, that Hanzo needed peace and quiet. Angela would come patch up his busted knuckles once he had calmed down enough.

Jesse rested his head against the wall. Time ticked by, marked only by the soft sound of crying. Was it him? Or Hanzo?

“Hanzo… Darlin’,” he lowered his voice, sweet murmurs. “You’re safe. You’re safe now.”

 

-

 

Hanzo shuddered at the warm voice caressing his body. He wanted to badly to believe him. He was scared. He knew his father was dead. He knew he wasn’t in Japan anymore. He was an adult, successful and independent of what the clan wanted. He was still afraid. 

His hands hurt.

He managed to pull one hand away from the doorknob. It was stuck with dried blood. Pain shot through his fingers. He had really done a number on them. He took a shuddering breath and let it out. He couldn’t find his voice. Couldn't find english words. [[J-Jesse? Where… where am I?]]

Something shifted outside the door. “Baby, … I can’t understand you.”

His cowboy had always struggled with even basic Japanese. The memory stabbed at him. He curled forward around the ache. He wanted to sob. There were already tears on his cheeks though. He swallowed, struggling to get his breathing under control. Slow down. “Where… am i?” he managed after a long time. His mind was still hazy. He was so tired. His head was pounding.

“You’re in my apartment, Hanzo,” the voice was so warm and gentle.

That made sense. Of course Jesse had brought him here. It helped him relax. If the news got ahold of the fact he'd beat a firefighter and freaked out, they would go to his apartment. Not here. He still couldn’t bring himself to open the closet door. Shame heavy on his shoulders…and disbelief. How could Jesse be his cowboy? How could this be happening? He wasn’t still… stuck in a flashback was he?

“Hanzo? You with me?”

“Y-yes,” he swallowed, head hanging. 

He noticed part of McCree’s hand was under the door. Just the pinkie and ring finger. His own fingers trembling as he dared to touch them. They were warm, an anchoring sensation. 

“You’re safe now, I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Hanzo shuddered, wanting to believe it more than anything. Needing to believe it in the moment. He was fragile. “Jesse…” he shifted, trying to get to his feet but his legs were numb. “H-help me please.”

He slowly let his hands fall to the hardwood floor. They throbbed and burned. His legs were stiff. He had to close his eyes as the door slowly opened, the light too intense. “Hanzo…” he managed to follow the sound, opening his eyes just a little against the glare. The man haloed by the dying sunlight streaming through the windows behind him. It made him seem so soft and young.

 

-

 

Jesse’s heart was breaking all over again. Hanzo looked lost on the floor of his closet. He stooped, keeping his movements slow and steady. Hanzo looked so young, hair in his face and shoulders slumped. He reached out, sliding his arms around him. Hanzo pressed forward suddenly, burying his face in Jesse’s shoulder. He held him tightly, hand coming up to gently caress the back of his head.

He struggled to keep his breathing steady, wanting to break down. He was trembling on the edge of his own self control. Tears falling on Hanzo’s soft hair. He kissed them away, breathing in the scent. There was fear and sweat and blood but also that musky smell that was just Hanzo.

Hanzo was mumbling broken Japanese against him. He bought a word or two but not enough to guess what Hanzo might be asking. He wanted to make it better but He couldn’t begin to process everything. Hanzo had been attacked. Jesse had failed to protect him. He had failed back then and he had failed now. He had taken Hanzo for granted, assuming he would be safe. 

What he wouldn’t do to go back and make things right. He had been young and scared, fighting for his life and escape. He had barely made it out of the castle alive that night. Hanzo had chosen to stay, to atone for what he had done. What they had done. A prince cannot leave his kingdom, even if it means being locked away forever.

Now that man was in his arms, sobbing into his shirt. He did the only thing he knew how, wrapping his arms around the small and pulling him tight. Offering the safety of his broad shoulders and steady hands. Offering everything within him.

“Hanzo, hanzo baby,” he murmured into his once lover’s hair, hands stroking over trembling muscles. “You’re safe, I’ve got you.”

Hanzo pulled back just enough to look up to him, relief coloring his splotchy face. Jesse ached to kiss his cheeks and steal away the tears. He brought him closer, pulling him out of the closet with care. The man’s legs didn't seem to want to hold him, half falling into Jesse. Hanzo slung his arms around his neck, holding himself tight. 

Jesse held his weight, guiding him step by step. He ached to hold him in his arms and rock the pain away, to make him forget the waking nightmare and find comfort. 

He eased Hanzo onto to the couch, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders. The man was shaking but he was with him, in the present. Hanzo’s eyes wide with fear but clear. He nodded at the silent question was asking him. 

Jesse wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into his lap. The man fit so perfectly, so perfectly even now. He couldn’t keep from kissing his forehead, easing the man down to lay on his chest. Hanzo didn’t struggle, melting into him. The feeling of the man pliant and soft made his head spin, longing for his first love a sharp pain in his chest.

He gently stroked down Hanzo’s back, keeping him warm and in a tight place. He didn't care about the blood smearing on his shirt and couch from Hanzo’s hands. The man’s breathing was steadying, growing deep and slow. He felt so small in Jesse’s arms. Fragile. he would never dare to tell the man that though. 

He checked his phone now that Hanzo had calmed down. Everyone yelling at him for updates. Everyone asking so many damn questions. he wanted to throw it across the room and just forget about the world. He just wanted to keep Hanzo safe from the chaos waiting for them. 

“Hanzo, Darlin’,” he caressed his cheek, brushing away the salt from tears. “Can I look at your hands? I’m worried you mightta broke something.”

Hanzo’s skin was sallow and his cheeks flushed like he had a fever. He nodded after a moment, a weak smile tugging at the side of his mouth. “Thank you…”

He took his time, not making any loud noises as he got the first aid kit out of the bathroom and a bowl of warm water and wash rags. He knelt in front of Hanzo. The man’s eyes were slits, just barely open. His breathing was shallow again. He needed rest and something for the pain. He opened the kit and found some prescription painkillers he’d gotten after pulling a muscle in his thigh. “Are you allergic to any drugs?” he asked as he got a capsule out. Hanzo shook his head. “Are you okay with taking this?” He nodded. “I’ll get you some water…” 

Hanzo was looking just a bit better after taking the painkiller and finishing the glass of water. He was still flushed and not meeting his gaze. Jesse took his right hand first, holding it carefully. “Darlin’, this might hurt.” Hanzo shrugged, smile weak. Jesse didn't drag it out more, lowering his companion’s hand into the warm water. The dried blood softened and he was able to dab it away. Hanzo didn’t give any inclination that it hurt. Jesse went slow and steady anyway, not rushing as each knuckle was cleaned and inspected. The skin was broke and mashed but there wasn’t any bone poking through. The swelling would take time to go down. 

Such beautiful hands. Slender fingers and rounded nails with calluses from archery a pleasant contrast to the smoothness. He remembered these hands, caressing his face in the darkness, knotting in his hair and scratching down his back. The way they had felt in his mouth… and caressing the shape of his lips and jaw as if memorizing the shape. He couldn’t stop himself, lowering his mouth reverently to kiss Hanzo’s palm. 

He felt the shiver that went through Hanzo and he carefully withdrew. He continued to work in silence, smoothing out the flesh of his palm. He sprayed disinfectant on the wounds before wrapping his knuckles in bandages. They would help keep it clean till Angela or a professional could take a look. He didn’t think any of the cuts needed stitches though.

He repeated the process on Hanzo’s left hand, this time meeting his eyes as he kissed his palm. The man’s face was too complex to decipher. He dared to let his lips linger for a moment longer. He moved on to cleaning and bandaging. He tied it carefully, looking over his handy work. What could he say now… 

“Thank you…” Hanzo’s voice was raw and strained. The man leaned forward suddenly and Jesse reached for him, afraid he had fainted. Instead the man put his forehead to his own, just staying there. Tears bubbled up in Jesse’s eyes, overwhelmed. He had found him, by accident after all these years. He had found him, the first man he had truly loved. The man that had almost gotten him killed but that didn’t matter right now. Hanzo was here, real.

He slid a hand up to caress the man’s cheek, fingers lightly curling around the back of his head. They rested for a long moment, something warm and vulnerable and unspoken passing between them. 

Jesse was the first to move, brushing his thumb along Hanzo’s jaw. “You need to rest, Darlin,” he murmured. Hanzo nodded weakly against his hand, looking relieved. Jesse helped him to his feet, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Lean on me… you can have my bed.” he guided him through the small apartment to his bedroom. He was thanking his lucky stars he’d known Hanzo was going to be staying, having cleaned the worst of it. And put a small rug over the more suspect stains.

Hanzo was soft against him, wobbling on his feet. He tried not to enjoy it too much, knowing Hanzo didn’t need him fawning over him right now. He helped the man down, the painmeds obviously kicking in and making him delirious. He pulled the blankets up and tucked them in around his companion. 

He started to turn, knowing he needed to call Jack and Angela but he was stopped.

“Stay…”

 

-

 

Hanzo was bleary, drugged and exhausted. He didn’t want to be alone , not now, not after everything, not when he was vulnerable. Jesse’s shirt was soft. The man looking at him with eyes wide, cheeks red. His eyelids were so heavy. He was cold. he was always cold after a flashback. it was probably the sweat.

Jesse sat on the edge of the bed next to him. He smelled good. he was so warm. Hanzo knew that he would generate heat like a furnace. that he would burn him up. He wanted to be scorched.

His hands ached, reaching out to pull him closer, pull him down into the syrupy reality he was in. The bed was shaking or maybe it was his own heartbeat. All he knew was that Jesse was solid and real. He was being pressed into a strong chest, wrapped in gentle arms. He pressed his face into that warmth, grounding himself. The peaceful rise and fall of his first loves chest soothing his shattered nerves and constant worries.

He melted.

Everything was soft, sleep deep and dark and for once without nightmares. There was nothing but safety. Nothing but peace. He was held safe and for once he did not have to be on guard.

he wasn’t sure how long he slept, drifting easily between soft dreams. Every time he started to shift into a nightmare, strong arms held him tighter, gentle fingers caressing his weary face and playing in his hair. He longed for this, for the comfort of touch and the intimacy of being held and holding. His arms were around his lover, legs tangled. He could feel the heat through his slumber. A bonfire, a light in the dark, Jesse McCree.

He had not been called that all those years ago when he was part of the Deadlock Gang. He preferred Jesse. It felt better on his tongue. his dreams took a more pleasing turn, the man under him pliant and soft. Willingly rutting against his knee between his legs. Hanzo’s mouth exploring the curves of his neck. Biting to leave his mark and kissing away the sting. 

“Hanzo,” the voice brought him closer to consciousness. he didn’t want to go yet. Jesse was under him, moaning and arching his back. Sweat shining on his chest, nipples hard and dark. That pretty mouth filled with his fingers. The man sucking and licking at them with abandon. 

“Hanzo Shimada.” He wanted to scream, not now, this was not he time to be interrupted. “Hanzo you have to wake up.”

He snapped back to reality, fighting back a frustrated groan.

“Hanzo, look at me,” the soft sweet voice demanded and he dragged his gaze up. Angela was sitting on the edge of the bed, her normally cheerful face serious. “There you are…” she carefully felt his forehead, moving slowly to the back of his head, checking for bumps. He let her, fighting back a hiss. He didn’t want to be poked and prodded at. He wanted… something. He wasn’t sure. To leave? To stay? To just run?

“Can i examine your hands?”

He shrugged, offering them. He wondered where McCree was. He was shirtless now. It had been covered in blood but he didn’t remember taking it off. Had Jesse or Angela been the one to do it? He tried to swallow his embarrassment. He hated showing his tattoo, the reminder of his past. He hated the idea of being so vulnerable and exposed, passed out and at the mercy of other’s hands.

Angela was trying to make small talk with him but he ignored it. He needed to call his brother. He needed family around him. He needed to… to get out of town. He could travel with Genji, spend a few weeks in a far away resort. His firm could handle the work. He would give Amelia more authority, go on a sabbatical of sorts.

Genji would understand his need to escape and to forget. He could be gone before anyone realized. There was 10K in cash tapped to the underside of his bedside table at home and a passport under a fake name. He would intrust Mika and Miku to a long term boarding house. It would be so easy to disappear.

Angela was still talking, moving her hands animatedly. She seemed too happy for the occasion. He didn’t have the energy to focus, to bring the words into understanding. The sound of footsteps outside the door made him tense but they didn’t come in. There was just voices, low and angry. Jesse and Jack.

The last thing he wanted to do was talk to Jack right now. He groaned, leaning back into the pillows that smelled like Jesse. _Jesse_. What was he going to do about Jesse? The longing sparked through him, begging for the chance at happiness. The cold came next. He was too broken to love someone as good as Jesse. Too destroyed by what had happened, by his father’s viciousness and hate.

The memories threatened to overwhelm him again. He fought it back with everything he had, snarling as he covered his eyes with swollen hands. He couldn’t let it happen. Not now, he wasn’t helpless to them anymore.

Angela was murmuring something soothing. He wondered who was watching Hana. He had to get away from this, from all of this. He had his pants on still but not his shoes. He could feel his wallet pressing into his leg. 

“Hanzo, can you focus on me?”

He lifted his eyes slowly, his plans already forming. His cellphone was on the beside table. “Yes?” he managed, his voice was too deep, roughened by crying. 

“Do you need more pain meds?” she had a bottle in her hand. “I don’t think your hands are broken but I would like to take you in for x-rays to be sure. i can drive you to my clinic, we can keep it very quiet. No one outside the station knows what happened.”

He was relieved. One less thing to worry about.

“My hands are fine,” he did take the glass of water on the side table. It soothed his throat. His hands ached from the strain of holding the cup but he tried not to let it show. “I do not wish to go to the clinic.” He didn’t want a paper trail, even one protected by HIPPA.

He took his phone next, keeping his expression as neutral as possible. After all the scheming that had happened, he didn’t trust Angela or Jack. 

“Are you sure? I can’t do much to help you out here. Jack brought your duffle bag from the station. Jesse has offered to let you stay here. You can come stay with us for a while too, Hana would love to see you.”

He looked up enough to smile at her. “You are too kind. I believe some time alone would be best. I will return to my apartment..and take some vacation.” 

He could see that she was not happy with his answer. He wasn’t sure if they would let him be alone. The last thing he needed was a hovering, meddling Angela. “Don’t worry, my team will continue on the fire house while I am absent.” He spit the words with more venom than was necessary, head throbbing. He was in a tail spin. 

The guilt on Angela’s face made it worth it. Her head lowering in embarrassment. “It’s not like that Hanzo… weren’t you listening earlier?”

He shrugged, he didn’t care anymore what she had to say. He just wanted to be alone.

 

-

 

Jesse held onto his anger, teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached. He kept his voice low. “You’re a fucking moron.”

“Watch your mouth, McCree,” Jack snapped back. “this isn’t my fault anymore than it is yours.”

Jesse wanted to scream. Jack refused to let him into his own god damn bedroom to see Hanzo. Why was this idiot trying to keep him away? Hanzo needed him, or needed space. Angela hovering and hounding him wouldn’t help. He wanted them out of his house. He wanted to reclaim the peace of this place.

He needed to talk to Hanzo. They had to talk about this. If they could just talk, so much would be cleared. They could deal with this, find out how to proceed. Jesse wanted him, so much but would Hanzo want him? He was the reminder of the worst moment of his life. Would he see his father with bloody hands every time he looked at Jesse?

“You need to stay away from him, Jesse,” Jack was lecturing him again. “Let him come home with us, we can make sure he stays safe and doesn’t have another episode. Angela can take care of him better than you can.”

“How do you know that? You don't’ know what it’s like,” he planted his feet, chin jutting. “I do! I know what he’s going through. I’ve been there!”

“You aren’t a professional!” Jack snarled, his voice starting to rise.

“Angela isn’t a psychologist!” He growled back, hands shaking with anger. Hanzo needed space right now, not being surrounded by these two.

“She’s a doctor!” Jack bellowed.

“He needs peace!” Jesse yelled back.

“SHUT UP!” Angela was suddenly between them, her small hands shoving them back from each other. “You,” she jabbed Jesse in the chest, “you’re concern is admirable but Hanzo doesn’t need you triggering him. And you-“ she shoved Jack hard enough to make him stumble. “you are a fucking idiot, you need to calm down and get your ego out of your ass.”

“Baby,” Jack tried to catch her hands but she just shoved him again. 

“You are yelling with someone with PTSD from traumatic violence in the next room.You are disturbing my patient and being an asshole.”

Jack sheepishly held up his hands, head bowed. “i’m sorry, Angel,” he tried to pull her into a hug but she stiff armed him. “Apologize to Jesse.”

There was still fire in the fire chef’s eyes when he looked over his wife’s head to meet Jesse’s gaze. They were not finished. The idea that He would be the worst for Hanzo right now was infuriating. He was the only one who could really understand what Hanzo had been through. Only Hanzo could tell him he wasn’t wanted. Only Hanzo knew what Hanzo needed. But getting rid of these two meddlers was more important right now. Until things were calm and he could start hunting for answers. There were suspicions bubbling up.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice,” Jack spit out between gritted teeth.

“Both of you need to calm down, go sit down,” Angela ordered and they both sidled over to the couch. 

Jesse didn’t like being ordered around in his own damn home but at least Jack wasn’t yelling. He hated being scolded like a child. Jack wasn’t his damn dad. “you shouldn’t have let him wander off on his own,” Jesse muttered, putting his head in his hand for a long moment.

The silence drew out. “I know…” Jack sounded deflated.

Angela was making tea in the kitchen, muttering to herself in German. 

“What the hell happened, Jack?”

“The cameras caught most of it…” the man sighed, pressing the heel of one hand into his eye. “Chuck cornered him, started… started in on him for being gay. Called him a Faggot and shoved him. After that… Hanzo just started fighting. PTSD. I’ve seen it plenty of times before in the service. He needs to start going to meetings. Therapy isn’t enough.”

Jesse itched a that. “How do you know he’s in therapy?”

“Angela suggested a therapist that specializes in PTSD and anxiety disorders.”

Jesse nodded, wondering if he should call his therapist and see about getting a session in as soon as possible. He would make the call after he made sure Hanzo was comfortable. 

“Thanks love,” Jack was sounding calmer now, taking the cup of tea.

Jesse took his cup, wondering if the tea bags were even still good. He was more of a coffee guy himself. Angela patted him on the shoulder, her eyes full of worry and remorse. For what he wasn’t sure. The expression haunted him. He watched her walk down the hall to his room, a feeling of dread building in his gut. 

Something felt wrong. His stomach twisted.

“I’m sorry, none of this turned out like we hoped…” Jack murmured. “We shouldn’t have kept pushing but we just thought. if you could just…”

Jesse felt like he was moving through honey as he stood. His body too slow and the world blurring around him. He knew this feeling, he knew the scorching sadness. 

Angela’s swear echoed through the apartment, door slammed open. Jesse was right behind her, eyes wild.

The window was open, curtains stirring in a gentle breeze.

Hanzo was gone. 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I felt bad posting chapter six with such a cliff hanger ending without the next chapter up. So two chapters at once!

Hanzo flagged down a taxi, quickly hiding his hands in the stolen Texas Tech hoodie when the car pulled over. He slid into the backseat, giving directions to his apartment. He slouched down, hood pulled up as the taxi slowly pulled away. He resisted the urge to look back, needing time to himself. 

The taxi driver didn’t ask any questions and he was grateful for it. He was tired of questions. He stumbled up the front steps and into the elevator. It seemed to take so long to go up to his floor. He almost sat down to wait it out but managed to keep his knees locked. Other residents got on and off, some giving him suspicious looks. He didn’t look like he belonged here, not with the ratty hoodie, hiding his face.

Mika and Miku were asleep on the couch when he got home. The cats lifted their heads but didn’t come to greet him. he didn’t care. He couldn’t offer them any comfort, barely holding it together. There was too many emotions inside him, threatening to drag him down in to the abyss. He couldn’t stay here much longer. Angela and Jack would check here first. 

He stooped to get the baggie taped to the underside of the cabinet in his bedside table. 10K in small bills, a fake passport and fake ID inside. He just needed to disappear for just a little bit. Just enough time to get himself together. He could disappear for a week or two. Until everyone forgot about the fight, forgot about the shameful display he’d put on, about him weak and sobbing like a broken child.

_fuck, what am i doing?_ had he learned nothing from his past. Why was he about to repeat the same pattern that had haunted his life? The same cycle that had him on the run when things got too rough. Reactionary to the things in his life beyond his control. He put his head in his bandaged hands. How could he stop hurting himself for what had happened.

The world trembled at the edges. 

He breathed in deep, feeling his stomach expand. He counted to six and let it out for eight, trying to center himself. He knew how to do this. This was what therapy was for. It hadn’t been this bad in years but he could do this… his anxiety spinning his mind around and around, feeling trapped. Even in his own home, sitting on the floor in his sanctuary. He couldn’t escape it.

“Why?” he threw his head back, slamming int into the mattress. Silent screams and pleading bubbling on his tongue and dying before they reached his lips. What had he done to deserve this? But he knew, he knew why he was punished. He had turned on his own family, on his only friend in that bitter world. He had stood above his brother with sword in hand. He had hardened his heart against the screams and pleas for mercy. 

He had been full of hate. His brother the faggot, the little slut whoring his way around the very city they held in a grip of fear. A disgrace. A dishonor. Hanzo hated him so much it consumed him. Because he had longed with every fiber of his being to be able to have a scrap of Genji’s happiness. To be the younger brother that could skirt his lessons and live outside the castle. To be able to act on the snarling desires that must be kept in check for the honor of the clan, to be compliant and marry a woman the elders picked for him. He had to sacrifice everything and his brother was free to spend his days in the arcade and the nights making love with willing men. He had been beaten day and night for his one transgression, for his one moment of weakness. For one man’s sweet embrace and smoke tinged kisses.

Each time he had struck his defenseless brother, he had been beating himself. The flat of the blade bruising and breaking, the sharp slice of metal into flesh. The screamed spiraling to the heavens as the elders encouraged him, praised him as he brutalized his only true family.

There was no flash back this time, just the solemn truth of what he’d done. Why he was always losing the people he cared about, why he never seemed to find happiness in the arms of lovers or abusers. Why he kept punishing himself.

He didn’t need to. He didn’t need to let it destroy him. The familiar sadness eating at his heart, the familiar panic urging him to throw everything away so it wasn’t torn from his hands. The old impulse to run. Like he had run after beating his brother to the edge of death. He had only barely stopped himself in that moment, turning at the last second and throwing himself at the elders. The blood had run down the steps, following the grooves in ancient wood. 

He pulled out his phone, fingers barely working. His voice was broken when the other line picked up. “G-Genji…”

“Brother? are you okay? what is wrong?” his brother’s voice was frantic but familiar. 

“i’m not okay,” he whispered, the words like glass in his throat. “I… I cant do this anymore.”

“You can,” Genji replied instantly, firmly.

Tears spilled down his cheeks, dripping off his chin. How could he make it through this time. He was so tired of running. He was just so tired.

“You can make it through this.” Genji’s voice reached through the distance to hold him. “Just breathe. Like the therapist said right? Just breathe with me.”

They just breathed together for a long time, Hanzo following Genji’s lead. His brother, grown so wise so young. It helped him calm down, nerves still raw, like his skin had been peeled off.

“Are you safe?” Genji asked as he brought them out of the breathing mediation. 

“I am not in any physical danger,” Hanzo rested his head back on the edge of the mattress. He felt nauseous and sick, exhausted to his very bones. He needed to sleep for a thousand years, woken only by true loves kiss. Or just fade into the ground.

“Are you going to hurt yourself?”

“I am, I am okay. I am not in danger.” he realized it was true, the tempest in his head and heart had calmed. He was drugged on painkillers and endorphins but resting now. He was cold, pulling the blanket off the bed and around him.

“Start at the beginning,” his brother gently urged. “Just start at the beginning, just tell me everything.”

Hanzo started in broken sentences and many long pauses. Slowly telling Genji how he had met Jesse and how they had been drawn to each other, fire and water, spiting and clawing in their own dance. Genji listened intently, prodding him to keep talking when he faltered. Offering little words of encouragement.

When he finished, he felt so much better. Like he had let poison from a wound. His head too heavy to lift off his arm, phone propped on his ear. “Thank you… I… I don’t know why you are so kind to me.”

“because you have a sick pad and i need a cool place to stay when i visit San Fran?” his brother laughed. How could he always be so cheerful? The monk he was dating really had been a good influence on him, bringing him out into the sunlight. Maybe he needed to go to the monetary in Nepal and see about healing himself through spiritual means. 

Therapy had been working pretty well though. He knew he needed to call and schedule an appointment for as soon as he could be seen. But for now, he was too tired to move. The floor was sucking him down like a bog.

“Have you been drinking water? Eaten something?” his brother’s concern warming his heart. “you need to take care of your physical body too.”

“i will get something to drink soon…. i am just so tired.”

“I know…” 

The silence pulled out between them.

“I forgive you, you know that right?”

“I know,” he sighed, turning to bury his face in his arm. The tears suddenly thick in his throat again.

“And you deserve forgiveness. From yourself.” He screwed his eyes shut, teeth gritted to keep in a sob. “you are worthy of peace, of love.” He couldn’t take it, curling around the ache in his chest as he cried. “You are enough, just you, just my brother. You don’t have to prove your value with your obedience, with your talents or with your money. Hanzo, big brother, you matter just as you are.”

Hanzo couldn’t speak, heart flooded, pouring out. Genji kept murmuring words of encouragement, of affirmation. The love covered him in a soft embrace. He was overwhelmed and battered by the world. But in this moment, he was shielded with love. He let himself weep. For himself and his brother. For Jesse that he had hurt then and now.

Genji patiently soothing him until he finally ran out of tears. 

“I wish i was there with you.”

“I do too,” his mouth barely moved, “I miss you.”

“I can come home…” 

The offer hung in the air between them. Hanzo’s mind already supplying him with all the reasons he didn’t deserve his brother dropping his vacation to travel half way around the world just because he was sad. He pushed those doubts aside, focusing the last bit of his energy into being honest.

“Please come home…”

 

—

 

It was torture not to go check on Hanzo.

Jesse had kept angela and Jack from beating down the door only by a thread. They had been in contact with his brother who had assured him Hanzo was safe. Genji was coming back to the states to be with him.

Jesse tried to keep from worrying but he was moving through life like it was a dream. The fire was raging all around him, the shouts of his crew somewhere behind him. The smoke was thick and black. Too hot. He could feel it eating at his flesh through his suit.

He wasn’t leaving. He didn’t care that he was being ordered to retreat, that the fire was out of control. That sometimes there were casualties that couldn’t be avoided. He snarled, shoving forward into the unbearable heat. his lungs burned from exertion as he climbed the stairs, pushing through debris and rubble. The child’s room was on the second floor, without a fire ladder. The 3 year old was screaming.

Or maybe he was just hearing things. The rumble of the fire clouding his judgement. The smoke was so think he moved by feel alone until he reached the attic. He stayed low, where the some was thinnest. He called out for the child, crawling deeper into the room. The floor was so hot, fire consuming the story below him.

Was this a suicide mission? His heart lurched, panicking that maybe he had made the wrong call after all. Was the child already dead? Had one of the crew already gotten to her? He pressed on, something deep in his gut urging him not to give up.

He almost missed it in the smoke, easily could have mistaken it for a doll. But there, under the cradle he could see a tiny leg. A red sequin shoe shining dementedly. He slide under the crib with her, checking the lifeless child’s pulse. She was alive, just barely. There was no more time. The smoke would kill her before the fire could. 

He gathered her in his arms, cradling her close to this chest. There was no way to get her through the flames on the first floor without burning her. She might not survive the slow progress. he had to save her, even if he died, he had to. Nothing else mattered but giving her a chance to be with her family. To grow up with a loving mom and dad and siblings. 

Tears left tracks down his cheeks as he stood. The smoke was thickening quickly.

He stumbled to the window, knowing it was risky to open it. The rush of air could push the fire higher. It was a gamble. But he had always been a lucky man.

He shoved the window up, air gusting in and a roar following. He climbed out, sliding down the pitched porch roof. HIs boots slipping on the half melted shingles. the child was lifeless, fire licking at his back. He screamed for help, for someone to get them down. 

He knew that the ladder wouldn’t make it in time. IF anyone heard him at all. The 12 foot drop wavered back and forth in the heat waves. The child’s breathing growing fainter.

He gritted his teeth and pushed himself off the edge.

He landed with a bone jarring thud, trying to bend his knees to take some of the impact. Something popped ominously but he could get back to his feet. The porch was crumbling behind him, creaking and moaning as the posts gave out. He stumbled forward, keeping the child’s head tight to his chest, protected from shrapnel.

The screams of his crew and the parents washed over him. He took one wavering step at a time, holding out the little girl. “Help, she’s still breathing!”

A paramedic rushed to him, taking the little girl and rushing straight to an ambulance. Other EMTs flocking to it, organized chaos breaking out in an effort to save the girl.

Jack was yelling at him, threatening to kill him for doing something to risky but hugging him too. He was forced into the back of an ambulance too, Zarya helping get him out of his gear. Someone put an oxygen mask over his face and he let himself be examined. He knew he could still be in danger. The house was a goner but the neighboring ones could be saved. The fire crews working furiously. The two from the next station coming to help control it.

When his shift was over, he retreated from the boisterous life at the station. He didn’t stay longer than he had to anymore. It no longer felt like a home away from home. He no longer felt safe. He had requested to be moved to a different fire house but the paper work would take time. He thought about quitting too, except for days like today.

He could save lives. He could protect people.

He hadn’t been able to protect Hanzo. Not in the past and not in the present.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he held his phone in his lap. He had resisted the urge to pry into Hanzo’s life, knowing if he wanted, he could get the information. But … he wanted to give Hanzo his privacy and space to get his head straight. He had needed time to process everything too. He had resisted Angela’s prying and comforting, avoiding her and Jack as much as he could. 

He wanted to talk to Hanzo. He didn’t want to let things get more confusing and complicated. In the past, being direct with Hanzo had worked out the best. And just because he had a rough… episode… didn’t mean he was suddenly made of glass. Hanzo was tougher than people gave him credit for. He was a warrior. A dragon at heart.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. His therapist had been helping him get to this point, guiding him into healthier patterns.

HIs heart was still pounding as the phone rang. And rang. the tapping of his foot seemed loud in the apartment.

“Jesse…”

The voice sent shivers down his spine, warmth bubbling up in his stomach. “Hanzo…” he cleared his throat, “How… how are you feeling?” He rubbed his hands on his jeans, focusing on breathing normally.

“I have been better,” there was a dry humor in the response.

“Me too.” he mentally kicked himself. This wasn’t how he wanted things to be. he rolled his shoulders. “could be so much better with a handsome firecracker like you at my side”

For one terrifying heartbeat there was silence.

“I would burn you up, fool.”

“Good thing i’ve got flame resistant gear.”

“Your brain’s already fried.” Hanzo laughed and Jesse felt the tension draining from his shoulders.

“At least i’m Hot,” he chuckled, laying back on the bed. 

“Hmm, maybe an 8.”

“Lying isn’t very attractive.”

“neither are you.”

“Darlin’, i’m wounded.” he closed his eyes, a smile warming his face. God he loved Hanzo’s voice. “Sides, you know you want a piece of this beefcake body.”

“I am a vegetarian.”

“Really?” he blinked, trying to remember what Hanzo had gotten to eat when they’d had breakfast together.

Hanzo just laughed, the sounds like a symphony. “You are a foolish man.”

“you like it.”

“I certainly do not.” There was a pause and then a snicker. “My brother wishes to tell you that he says hello and to ask what you are wearing.”

“shit love,” he slapped a hand over his eyes. “am i on speaker phone or something?”

“No, he is just very nosey.” 

“Oiiiiii!” A japanese tinged voice in a tenor called out. “I just want to know about the fireman. I like fireman!”

Jesse raised an eyebrow, though not too surprised that the younger brother would be more relaxed than Hanzo. “Maybe I should send over the annual fireman’s calendar then, there’s a pretty picture of yours truly in it.”

There was the sound of a scuffle on the other end and indignant shouting in Japanese. It was Genji on the phone now. “Send it to Hanzo! He wants to see if you have the ‘v’”

“I do NOT!”

Another scuffle and the sound of something hitting the floor. was it a person or maybe furniture? Hanzo was breathing heavily when he got the phone back.

“Please do not encourage him. He is,” that was definitely the sound of someone being slammed to the floor. “He is determined to embarrass me in front of all my friends.”

“well shucks, sugar,” Jesse crooned, pulling his shirt up and tugging his pants down just a bit. “I can think of a lot of far more fun ways t’do that.”

He angled the phone, shifting to make the dramatic V of his hips pop. He was proud of his cut abs and toned body, a thick muscled man. He snapped the pic, threw a filter over it to correct some of the bad lighting and sent it.

Genji’s squeal hurt his ear, what could only be teasing pouring through the speaker. Hanzo was bickering back a mile a minute.

Jesse’s heart warming more and more. Hanzo was happy and having fun. Relief swept through him, limbs going slack with relief. He was so glad he had called. His therapist really was right. It was better to be honest with himself about what he was feeling and wanting.

The sound of a voice being cleared brought his attention back to the phone in his hand. “It… perhaps… you have one good quality at least.”

“tell him i wanna back cookies on his abs.”

“you have Zenyatta!” 

“Oh please, I love Zen but even he would drool.”

“I agree, the fireman has an excellent form.”

Jesse’s eyes widened in horror, realizing there was a third person now involved in a call he had intended to be private. with a picture that he had definitely assumed Hanzo wouldn’t share. He couldn’t help but preen a bit under the praise. It had been a while since three men had been flirting with him and admiring him.

Angry hissing in Japanese broke up the call. Jesse imagined Hanzo going after his brother and his brother’s lover with a rolled up newspaper. There was a fair deal of cackling and shrieking at least and then the slamming of a door.

“Sounds like you have a full house,” he grinned, taking a moment to strip out of his shirt.

he could hear the eyeroll. “My brother can be wise far beyond his years…and a complete baboon the next.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Until he wakes you up singing the Sailor Moon theme song at 3 in the morning after raving.”

Jesse snorted, covering his mouth with his hand at the mental image. He really wanted to meet Genji and Zenyatta now. They seemed like a good influence.

“I’d like to wake you up at 3 in the morning but not with singing.”

“I can imagine what’s on your mind.” There was a low chuckle and the crinkle of something, maybe sheets. “I think i would prefer your method.”

“well shucks, i’m flattered Darlin’.” HIs heart was picking up in the most delicious way. 

“Don’t be too confident, cowman. I might just want to ride you around the room.”

Jesse laughed. “Hanzo, I don’t know if that means whatcha think it means.”

There was a long pause, just breathing on the line.

“I am…perhaps mistaken then.”

“course if a gorgeous man like you asked me to get on all fours, I wouldn’t be saying no.”

“Ah.”

Jesse winced, sure he’d fucked up again. Pushing to hard, forgetting what had happened between him and how his heart longed for Hanzo. It just seemed safer to tease and flirt like they had before. Maybe they could talk about feelings and the past and everything later, in person when they were both ready.

“Sorry, Hanz… I didn’t mean t’be too crude for ya.”

“That… is not…” 

Another long pause and he thought he heard furious whispering. Had Genji slunk into the room again? Or was Hanzo merely consulting him through the door. He hoped he hadn’t made a fool of himself in front of two people.

He waited patiently, hoping he would be included in the conversation again. Instead there was a push notification across the top of his phone.

Hanzo Shimada had sent him a picture.

He sat up in bed, hair falling around his face. Thumb hovering over open button. A few deep breathes and he opened it.

“fuck me,” he whispered in awe, cheeks going red and heat rushing straight to his groin. Hanzo Shimada, elegant, refined, angry resident japanese man, had sent him a picture. Not just any picture, no. It was a shot of cut from steal abs, a dark happy trail leading his eyes straight down to a very large bulge in a pair of tight black pants.

“oooh fuuuuuck me,” he bit back a moan of desire, head spinning. All the blood was rushing in the opposite direction.

A dark chuckle came through the speaker, caressing over his ear. “Perhaps another night. If you’re lucky.” 

The line went dead.

—

 

Hanzo had never blushed so hard in his life. Hands shaking as he put the phone down. He had just sent Jesse a picture of his hard cock straining in his pants. “Did you do it?” Genji giggled outside his bedroom.

“None of your business.”

“that means you did it.”

“Oh my, perhaps we should leave the apartment Genji?” came the quiet voice of the ex-monk. The man was sitting cross legged on the floor, hands folded in his lap, looking the picture of serenity. 

Hanzo stalked to his door, throwing it open to glare at both of them. “Shoo, but don’t you dare come back drunk,” he pointed at his evil little brother. “and if you wake me up again, i swear to all the various gods that i will kicked you out.”

“Whaaaaat? You’d kick me and zenyatta out on our first visit as a couple.”

“I didn’t say anything about Zen leaving.”

“I am honored,” he lifted a hand before returning to his almost meditative state.

“that’s not fair. Come with me! there’s this hot new club that has killer music.” Genji was bouncing at his side. “C’mon, it’ll be good for you to blow off some steam.”

“I would prefer going to a dojo then.” He really could use some time to focus his mind and burn off some energy sparring. In the few weeks Genji had been there, his mental state had improved rapidly. Just not living alone was night and day.

“uh…” his brother pulled out his phone, fingers dancing like lighting. “Okay found one, it’s open 24 hours and provides the gi.”

“Really?” he stepped closer, looking at the map. “Zen would you like to come with us?”

“Perhaps another time. I find myself wishing to mediate and pray this evening.”

The shimada brothers shrugged, saying their good byes to the ex-monk and gathering their gears. It was sunset as they piled into Hanzo’s luxury car and pulled out of the classy apartment complex. Genji teasing him nonstop about his fireman friend, having heard the whole story about their meeting at a birthday party and the tender moment of laying together after the incident. And the revelation that “Jesse McCree” was the cowboy from their youth. 

“Do you really think you’ll go out with him?” Genji asked as the highway stretched out in front of them. The dojo about a half hour away.

“Do you really think you’ll marry Zenyatta?” He shot back.

“fair enough,” Genji just laughed, putting his feet up on the dashboard, windows open.

The sunlight was streaming over them, rudy and beautiful. It seemed closer and warmer as they laughed and teased and tormented each other in a way they had never done. 

Free. 

Honest.

Alive.


	8. Chapter 8

Jesse slammed his fist into the Chuck’s face, feeling bone and cartilage breaking under his bare knuckles. The crowd went wild, voices reverberating in the abandoned warehouse and shaking a layer of dust off the rafters. 

It clung to his back, cut by rivers of sweat and blood. 

“You fucking faggot,” Chuck growled, holding his face as he backed away. Hands coming back up in defense.

The noise of the crowd was muffled in Jesse’s head, the reek of bodies pressed in too close sharp in his nose. The underground fight had been easy to organize. All it took was a call to a old number and he had been brought right back into the scene.

Chuck charged straight at him, big as a bull and swinging sledgehammers for fists. His ego had been bruised and his manhood insulted by being beaten by a short asian man. Now he was going after the cocksucker cowboy.

A bloody smile met the homophobe.Ducking under an overzealous swing, he countered with an elbow to the kidney. Dancing out of the way, he ignored the slurs and hateful things being yelled at him by the crowd and by chuck.

The fucker that had assaulted Hanzo, hurt his love and shattered his fragile mental health. It didn’t matter that Hanzo had gotten in some punches of his own. Or that he had made a recovery, seemingly of body and spirit. This was his turn to fight and deal out the justice the police could not give him.

Pain burst through his side, a heavy boot connecting. He skidded along the worn floor, whipping the heel of his palm up to crack Chuck’s teeth together. It came away covered in blood. He surged forward, striking at ribs and exposed collarbones, kicking out his legs. Chuck went down in a pile of muscle and Jesse leapt on top of him. 

“You fucker,” his knuckles crunched into Chuck’s cheek. “You disgusting piece of shit.” He drew back and slammed into the man’s face again and again. Blood and sweat dripping into his eyes, flinging from his fists as he beat the man who had hurt his prince and dared to sneer at the love they had once shared.

Massive hands grabbed his arms, dragging him off and throwing him into the crowd. There was screaming and cheering as he was declared the winner. Someone slapped a wad of cash into his had, the organizer of the round. People clapped on his back, knocking him around as the clean up crew dragged an unconscious chuck away and mopped up the blood.

It was streaming down his face from a gash on the crown of his face. Metal in his mouth, dull throbbing in his ears, he staggered out of the mass of flesh and into the cold night air. Not really night anymore, early morning he realized. The sun would soon be up.

He had his revenge and gotten out mostly unscathed. The cut on his head the worst of it. He would have some bruises and sore spots but no broken bones. It made this easier. The fat wad of cash now stuffed in his jeans pocket took the sting out of it too. He had avenged Hanzo and taken Chuck’s money plus his cut from the organizing for drawing a crowd. Everyone had wanted to see him get his ass beaten. Everybody loved seeing a faggot get destroyed.

A dark chuckle rumbled from him as he got in his truck.

Served them all right.

The adrenaline started to wear off on the drive home, leaving him feeling tired and hazy. The sweat turning cold and sticky with dust and making him feel gross. He headed straight for the shower when he got home, dumping his back on the floor by the front door. The place was still clean and tidy. Something had changed when he had found his old love, a spark fanning into a flame.

He’d taken advantage in the lull in his depression to get things in order around the house. Getting rid of old things and bringing in new color and light. Even deep cleaning the carpets with a rented steamer. The whisky bottle above the fridge holding it’s liquid undisturbed in the weeks since the incident.

Once he was cleaned up, he flopped into his bed. Clean sheets and freshly laundered blankets were like a hug around him. The sunlight softened by new curtains. He closed his eyes with a happy sigh, mind on Hanzo Shimada.

When he dozed off, his dreams were of cherry blossoms and arcades full of neon and digital noise. Heavy breathing and desperate panting, his hands full of a powerful ass and mouth stretched around the prince’s cock. Hard floor biting into his knees, hands bound together in front of him with his own belt.

Hanzo was wearing his cowboy hat, hands rough in his hair, fucking him like he hated him. 

Jesse woke with a start, scrambling to sit up. Great heaving breathes of air as he blinked away sleep. It was after noon, almost two. He had slept for over eight hours. When was the last time he’d actually slept that long?

And had dreams about the past… His cock straining against his boxer briefs, almost painful as it leaked pre-cum. “Fuck,” he sighed, studying the bulge. He could practically feel the slide of Hanzo’s cock on his tongue, the pain of his hair being yanked and how his belt buckle had dug into his wrists till they ached.

He had loved having his mouth taken with feverish desire. It wasn’t healthy, to want to be punished for his love for men. He knew that now. But it lingered in the back of his mind. He had never trusted another man to tie him up, not even just his hands.

_fucking Hanzo,_ he groaned, squeezing himself through his underwear. he was harder than he’d been in a long time, swollen and heavy. He fumbled, dragging off the barrier to his cock before quickly going to his bedside table. The bottle of lube was cold and his vibrator charged. The buzz a comforting sound in the lonely little apartment.

He warmed up a generous amount of lube, cock bobbing against his stomach. every nerve ending aching for friction, for something to please touch him. His own hand would have to do for now, lightly grabbing his base and starting to stroke his thick cock.

The head of the slender vibrator got a smear of lube before he was pressing it into his ass, harder than was comfortable. He whimpered and squirmed, eyes closing as his head fell back on the pillows. Pumping himself steadily as he worked the vibrator deeper and deeper, imaging it was Hanzo’s cock spreading him. That there was a hand on his chest pinning him down, slender fingers sliding up and down his cock in time to the thrust.

Dark eyes looking down at him, fiercely possessive. A snarling lust that scorched him as he was forced to bend, cock slamming into his prostrate again and again. the wet suck and slap of balls and hands filling the room as Hanzo leaned down to kiss him.

He came suddenly, body convulsing as pleasure whited out his mind. mouth pulled tight by a moan before going slack as he collapsed into the bed. His ass twitching around the slender toy and cum cooling on his stomach.

Heavy breathing the only sound as he bathed in the afterglow. Belly warm and soft, eyelids heavy, sated. He could go back to sleep right now.

His cell phone beeped, pulling him back to reality. He wasn’t suppose to work today, groping for his phone. It was from Genji. A grimace crossed his face as he looked down at the mess he’d made. Cum thick on his stomach and purple vibrator deep in his ass.

it hurt as he slowly pulled it out and pulled off the condom. He tossed it in the bedside trash and put the toy back in it’s box. He enjoyed the feel of his cum as he went to get washed up in the sink, imagining it had been Hanzo that had marked him. 

He took time to get dressed and brew a cup of coffee. He considered making something to eat before shrugging, he wanted to see what Genji wanted first. They had been texting over the last two weeks. The man was hard not to be friends with. 

[[where should Zenny and I get lunch today?]]

Jesse rubbed his beard as he thought. He didn’t know much about Zenyatta but he figured he’d be into all that healthy stuff. [[Try Lotus Blossom Cafe on Broadville and 14th St]] The vegetarian and vegan food would probably fit them.

[[Thank you! (⌒▽⌒)☆ ]]

Jesse smiled at the man’s texting. It was always cute if a bit weird. he saved the cheerful expression to his phone. It had given him an idea though, taking a chance as he pulled up Hanzo’s number.

Should he really text the man he’d just fucked himself to? It was probably wrong on several levels

 

 

—

 

Sweat dripped down Hanzo’s back, flying off as he was thrown half way across the room. He landed with a bounce and roll, springing back to his feet. “you’ll have to do better than that,” he sneered, coiling the power inside him. The weeks of training with his brother had helped center him, finding the well of strength at the core of his being. 

“Brother, I am growing tired,” Genji was shirtless, lean body covered in sweat. He was panting. He wiped his soaking face with wrapped knuckles. “You need someone in your weight class to wail on.”

Hanzo grunted, straightening to his full height and rolling both shoulders. “I suppose you are right.” And then he charged straightforward, arm extending in a palm strike aimed at his brother’s chest. The slender man wove to the side, bringing an elbow down and kicking at Hanzo’s knee.

He jumped over it, swinging his momentum into a roundhouse kick. Genji dropped under it, lunging forward with a quick one-two strike. Hanzo blocked it with his forearm and checked him with a shoulder.

His brother was too light, he easily picked him up and threw him. He hit the padded mats with a grunt but didn’t get up. “genji?” he hurried over, going to his knees, worried he had hurt him.

“I surrender,” Genji huffed, raising both his hands and flapping them. “Seriously, you need to find someone else to spar with.” 

“I know,” he sighed, settling on his knees. Sweat dripping from his nose. 

“someone bigger than you, if you want an actual challenge,” his brother sprawled out, still breathing heavily. 

“Hmm,” he was unconvinced. The thought of sparing with one of the trainers at this dojo vaguely unpleasant. It would remind him too much of the past. He wanted to keep sparing spiritual, and if not that, fun. “Or you could start lifting weights again.”

“Ugh,” Genji rolled over and up. “I don’t want to spend my life in a dojo. I am happier freelancing and spending my days in fancy restaurants, resorts and in the arms of my lover.”

Hanzo made a face but he knew his brother had a point. They were no longer warriors and there was no need to be. Other than it was fun. His therapist endorsed him working out vigorously too. He had to admit, it did help take the edge off his anxiety.

Things had been going better. The house bustling with life again, his cats loving all the extra attention. He had called Jack and told him to fuck off with his games and the man had given him space. There was not much more to say, focusing his time on his brother and the ex-monk, finding family and reconnection in a way he hadn’t known was possible.

And flirting with the handsome firefighter. But they had not had a chance to reconnect, or talk about the revelation they had shared. Hanzo found himself smiling. His cowboy really had ridden back into his life. 

“you have the stupidest look on your face,” Genji came back and tossed a towel over his head. “Just call the cute cowboy and see if he can take a beating. He would probably like it.”

“Shut up!” he laughed, rubbing his head and face down. He needed a shower desperately. 

“You know you are dying to see him again.”

“I am not.”

“You bought the fireman calendar last week.” Genji deadpanned. Hanzo grunted, putting his head in his hands. It was true. He had found last years online and gotten it overnighted to the apartment. Jesse had been January’s pinup and it had lead Hanzo to distraction. It was pinned in his room, a bright splash of color in the monochromatic color scheme. 

“Fine…” Hanzo sighed, admitting defeat. “I will call him.”

“Good! ask him to send more pictures.”

“You have Zenyatta.”

“Not for me. for you idiot, loosen up, have some fun,” Genji ruffled Hanzo’s sweaty hair. “I’m going to shower and go to lunch with Zen. I have a Skype meeting after that. Will you be in the office today or working from home?”

Hanzo sighed, not wanting to go back to the office or go back to work in his home office. “I don’t want to.”

“Now you sound I like used to.”

Genji just laughed. “I’m going to shower, loser.”

“Rude.”

They shared a well worn look and made their way to the locker room. It was easy to be with Genji now. Perhaps better than they had ever been. He had been surprised how Genji adapted to the caregiver role. He had kept his wounds clean and cradled him in the dark when the nightmares became too much.

Now Genji kept him safe as they hit the lockers. Not safe from any physical danger but safe from the worry so quick to overwhelm him. They kept to themselves, finding a more private corner to change and shower away from the beefcakes testing their manhood against each other. 

“Can you pass over your shampoo, i forgot mine.”

Hanzo grunted a yes, hands busy lathering his hair into a tower on his head. The tile was slick and icy under his feet and he was trying not to touch the walls. Dunking his head under the heavy stream of water, the world disappeared.

Just the soothing heat drumming over his neck and cascading over his shoulders. He needed a massage. A gentle one to help him relax.

Once his eyes were clear of soap, he grabbed the shampoo and stuck his arm over the partition into Genji’s shower stall. 

“Thanks, Anji.”

“mmhmm,” he switched to condition his hair, mind wandering into dangerous territory. Jesse had hands that could make a man melt. Broad palms and thick long fingers he was sure could make him whimper. Dig into every tight muscle and work into the thick bands of knots. Those sinful touches wandering lower and lower, squeezing into the meat of his ass, kneading them and pulling apart his -

“Conditioner?”

Hanzo dunked his head under the water again to distract himself from imagining Jesse spreading his ass and brushing a thumb tip over his asshole.

“Did you remember to bring any of your own toiletries?”

“Just the soap, and some bodywash. you need any?”

“No.” He looked down at his semi hard cock and shook his head. He could not take care of himself so he needed it to go away. It was stubborn though, persisting as he soaped up and washed away the sweat. He even took the time to scrub the bottoms of his feet and in between his toes.

The shower beside him turned off and the wet slap of feet marked Genji’s departure to the lockers. He sighed, turning the water to cold and gritting his teeth. It did the trick and he was able to leave the stall with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“How is Zenyatta enjoying his stay here?” Hanzo opened the padlock and started to dry his long hair.

“He’s enjoying it, i think he will not want to leave.”

“you could stay?” Hanzo didn’t look up as he toweled off and started to get dressed.

“I would like that brother.”

“Really? I could help you start looking for an apartment. I designed some nice ones about 15 minutes from my building 3 years ago. Big windows, water features and a rooftop garden.”

“Zenny would like that,” Genji chuckled. “Please take good care of us, brother.” He bowed slightly to Hanzo.

“I will do my best.”

They parted ways soon after and Hanzo resigned himself to getting back to work. From home though, not wanting to deal with the bustle of an office today. He dragged himself up to his apartment, taking his laptop to the couch. Mika nuzzled his left arm, tail waving back and forth lazily.

“Have you been good?” he asked his cat, scratching under her white chin. A cold nose nudged at his free hand as Miku came up. The white cat trying to get into his lap to disrupt his work before it even began. He didn’t have the heart to push either of them off, letting them climb him. Mika took up her favorite pastime, licking his freshly trimmed beard. He shuddered but endured it, letting himself be loved. 

When Miku joined his sister on Hanzo’s chest so he could lick the man’s eyebrows, he finally pushed them both off. “I need to do some work,” they stared up at him with massive eyes. “but how about you stay right here, keep me company.” he patted the spots on either side of him and the cats obliged. Twin pools of white fur as they curled up.

The ping of his cellphone made him sigh, expecting it to be work.

The name on the screen made him smile inside and gave him an idea. Something that needed to be done and if he did it now, he couldn’t keep talking himself out of it.

[[Hey darlin, I’ve missed you…]]

his heart fluttered at the name, holding his phone to his chest at Jesse’s sweet message. He had been on the fireman’s mind. He hoped it had not all been sweet and innocent. Chewing on his lips while his mind wandered over memories of their time together. As dark and rough as they had been, the glimmer of something remained.

[[My thoughts have been on you as well.]]

He set his phone down, focusing on the proposal he was writing up for work.

He didn’t get more than a sentence typed before his phone went off again. He couldn’t resist. 

[[Only good things i hope.]]

A smirk twitched over his lips, the daydreams in the shower flickering back to life. [[Very enjoyable things.]] He considered leaving it at that but… after a moment he continued. [[i would like to see you again Jesse. I would like to talk.]]

There was a longer pause this time. He resorted to working to pass the time, tapping away as his cats snored softly next to him. The light creeping across the apartment and over his feet.

[[I’ve been hoping you would want t’talk about everything that’s happened. I know its awkward and I didn’t want to pressure you. But i’ve been dying to talk to you, to see you again. Hanzo, i’ve been feeling crazy just sitting here hoping you’re alright. i just keep going over what happened between us back in hanamura and can’t believe we found each other again without meaning too.]]

Hanzo’s fingers were shaking as he responded, heart beating too fast. [[can you come over now?]] Tears swelling in his eyes, threatening to spill over.

 

—

 

Jesse flew out of his apartment, stomping on his cowboy boots and jean jacket half on. The keys jangling wildly in his hand as he took the steps in a rush. There was no need to hurry but he couldn't wait, not any longer. 

He had to see his Prince again. The handsome youth he had found himself in, almost died for and never forgotten. Streets went by in a blur, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. he was burning up with anxious energy, an impending sense of doom storming on his shoulders. If they moment to talk slipped by, would it be weeks until he could talk to Hanzo again or would he miss the chance entirely.

Traffic was congested on the cross city highway, forcing him to stew in the worry. He was growing desperate, texting Hanzo as the traffic eased forward.

[[is Genji and Zenyatta there?]]

[[They are gone for the evening. It will just be us.]]

[[I can’t wait t’see you.]]

[[I am waiting for you. there is much to discuss]]

Bumper to bumper, he crept through the long traffic jam. The minutes ticking by too fast, wishing he could just abandon his truck and run. The traffic eventually broke, speeding up and the miles zipped by. He took the exit and made his way through the streets, looking for Hanzo’s apartment building. His cellphone barking directions but he still missed the entrance to the luxury apartments the first time.

He threw the truck into park and locked it. The walk to the elevator was torturous. He tapped his foot as he got on the elevator, going up to Hanzo’s floor. every time someone got on or off driving him mad. 

This was the first time he would be seeing Hanzo since everything that happened. Their flirting and texting just teasing his need for more. His body ached for Hanzo’s. He could be there for his love again, make him laugh and moan and hold him when he cried. He only wanted to keep him safe and love him.

The door loomed in front of him, the bass plated numbers wavering in front of his face. This was it, this was really happening. He steadied himself with a slow breath, suddenly wishing he’d brought flowers or chocolates or a bottle of sake.

He raised a hand, knuckles still red from fighting and gently knocked. His heart pounding in his throat as he waited, listening for the sounds of footsteps. Muscles tensing till they ached, trying to force himself to relax. Straightening his shoulders and taking measured breathes.

The tap-tap-tap of slender feet on the floor matched his heartbeats. A lock rattled and a chain jingling. The turning of the knob enough to make him gulp.

Heat flushed in his cheeks as the door opened and Hanzo shimada appeared inch by inch. 

His mouth was dry and he struggled to find words.

Soft brown eyes looking up at him uncertainly, a full mouth slightly parted before it broke into a wide smile. 

“Hello, Jesse.”

He swallowed, working his tongue. The grin on his face hurting. “Hello there Darin’,” he leaned against the doorframe, every cell in his body on fire.

“It is… good to see you again,” Hanzo’s smile was melting him. “Please come inside.”

The gentlest touch of Hanzo’s fingers on his arm compelled him inside. The gorgeous apartment nearly diverted his attention from his host. “Mighty pretty place you got here.” He managed after a long moment, finding himself led deeper into the apartment down a hall.

“Thank you, i am afraid we may not have it to ourselves for long. We will talk in my room, it is more private if my companions arrive earlier than expected.” 

“Inviting me t’your room? You’re as forward as ever.”

Hanzo paused for a moment with the door to his room open. Watching the muscles tighten in his broad back. “I have always taken what i wanted.” He stepped into the room and Jesse was powerless to resist the pull.

He followed in his wake, taking in the calming tones and plush furniture. A small couch was by the window, massive bed covered in a white comforter on the other side of the room. He found himself seated on one side of the couch. The gorgeous man next to him, thighs brushing. The touch sending heat into his groin, shifting slightly for more. HIs nerves and desires competing for dominance. 

“You’re looking good, Sug’,” he smiled, trying to keep his voice steady. 

“I can not say the same for yourself,” Slender fingers caressed a fresh bruise on jaw. “what are these from, Jesse?”

“Nothing darlin,” he leaned into the touch, pressing trembling lips to the pads of those fingers.

“I don’t believe you,” a sigh eased from the smaller man, “Do you still get into fist fights?”

“mmhmm,” his eyes were closed, soaking up the touch like a starved man. “when someone hurts someone i care about.”

The fingers fell away from his cheek. “you are still a fool.”

“Some things never change,” he chuckled, eyes lazily opening. “Do you still sleep in the closet when you’re anxiety gets too bad?”

“how do you remember that?”

Jesse smiled wider, finding himself drawn ever nearer. His chest brushing into Hanzo’s side. “I could never forget you.” he took his turn to touch now, brushing his fingers along a chiseled jaw. “I like the new hair cut. the short ponytail suits you.”

A huff met his praise and then Hanzo was leaning into him. “you have filled out well… I would not have guessed you would turn into such a …” a cool palm slide over his bicep, squeezing slightly. “bear.”

Jesse laughed, tossing his head back. “Well shucks darlin, we were both barely adults back then. I like t’think i’m hitting my glory days now.” Something caught his eye, bright and colorful in the mostly gray room. “Seems like I’m just your cup of tea.” He jerked his chin to the fire man’s charity calendar on the wall, open to his page despite being the wrong month.

“shit,” Hanzo tried to jump up but Jesse locked him in place with an arm. 

“shh, it’s alright, darlinj’,” he cooed, leaning in to nuzzle his neck a little. “i’m flattered. You’re just a perfect as you were back then. I never could believe you’d show interest in someone like me then… or now.” he admitted, letting go of Hanzo once he had quieted. 

The man wouldn’t look him in the eye, shoulders slumping. “I…I can never make it up to you. What happened because of me. Because of who I was.” 

The fire turned cold in Jesse’s gut. “No, no that’s not what I meant.”

“I know the clan hunted you…. i know you barely escaped with your life. Because of me.”

“Hey, Hanz,” he gently took the man’s cold hands in his own. “Those were… those were dark days. It wasn’t fair what happened to us. we were just kids trying to survive, to find connection”

“They almost killed you.” 

“But they didn’t.” He squeezed his old lover’s hands. “We… we both made it out of there. We survived.”

“Parts of us didn’t.” The voice was soft but not weak, full of anger and fear and the pain that haunted them both. “Jesse, ever since I realized you were my cowboy,” a shiver went down his spine, “I can’t stop thinking about you. and about what happened.”

“Me neither,” he reached out, caressing the back of Hanzo’s hand. “I don’t… i’m not good with fancy words but-“

A white blur sprang out of nowhere, bouncing into his shoulder from behind. He barked out a yell and swear, spinning around ready to beat the shit out of whoever had snuck up on them. But it was just a cat, a very confused and scared looking cat that was hurrying away under the bed now. “Shit,” he laughed, rubbing a hand over his face. “well fuck, that ruined the mood.”

“PTSD?” Hanzo didn’t look at him, his eyes distant. 

“Yeah… under control for the most part, just… spooked.” A flush of embarrassment welling up, coloring his face. “Therapy’s been helping. But with… everything that’s happened and finding you again, guess i’m just on edge.”

“i’m sorry… this is all my fault. I can never make it right. I only hurt you.” Hanzo wouldn’t look at him, head hanging and hands tangled between his knees.

Jesse’s heart sinking into the pit of his stomach. He knew rejection when he heard it. His arms fell to his sides, the ache in his chest trying to cave all of him in. A heaviness seeped into every cell, dragging at him, pulling him down into the familiar arms.

Of course Hanzo wouldn’t want him. Wouldn’t want to be reminded of that terrible night. He was probably just going to make it worse if he stuck around. Someone like Hanzo, someone practically royalty, Jesse could never make him happy. Hanzo had overcome his past, made a successful business and bright future.

_i’m just a fucked up fireman who can barely make rent,_ he wasn’t the type of person Hanzo would ever care about. Maybe fuck him. He probably had never loved Jesse except for taking out his self hatred on someone just as eager to be hurt.

He turned away. “Guess… i made a mess of things again. I can see… i should go.” Every part of him prayed Hanzo would reach out and stop him. Tell him to stay and talk. something. Anything to prove the depression in his head wrong.

“Well… I’ll leave…” He started for the door, knowing he’d fucked it up, knowing he had fucked everything up because he was a piece of shit. An angry broken man that had driven away his only friends and given in to the worst parts of himself. 

_i’m a fucking fool._

Hanzo didn’t stop him.


	9. Chapter 9

Jesse wiped tears from his face, fighting back the sickness as he dragged himself in to his truck. The rain had just started, leaving him damp and chilled to the bone. He put his head on the steering wheel, teeth clenched. Fighting back a string of hateful words, biting back the abuse he wanted to hear. He couldn’t keep doing this. He knew it was wrong, that it was the worst thing for him. 

To tell himself again and again how worthless he was, how pathetic. He had to be stronger than this, had to claw his way out of the cycle of thoughts. Why had he been going to a therapist this whole year if not to find a way out of this place. It took a few deep steadying breathes, focusing on what was real. The press of his nails into his palms. The ragged burn in his throat from breathing too fast. Slow that down, breathe steadily, hold onto the pain prick in his thigh where his keys dug in, the wet trickle of tears on his cheek. They dripped off his nose tip to the ratty seat of the truck.

_You can do this,_ he wiped roughly at his face, leaning back as the worst of the storm inside him eased. It was still tangling around in heart and lungs, making it hard to breathe.

His eyes cast listlessly around, landing on the duffle bag in the passenger’s seat. It was half covered by fast food bags and piled up empty cans of energy drink and soda. He really did need to give this back to Hanzo, especially if they weren’t going to be seeing much of each other anymore.

He dragged it into his lap, sighing to see that the zipper had come half undone. The last thing he needed was to ruin designer clothes in his gross depression nest of a truck. He started to roughly tug the zipper up but it caught, jamming.

A curse burst out of him with more force than was necessary. He wrestled the bag, yanking and tugging at the stupid thing. He snapped, forcing it down with a grunt and accidentally spilled the contents half into the seat.

He swore again, too tired for this stupid shit. He started thrusting fancy shirts and blazers back into the bag. This designer stuff probably worth more than his whole wardrobe.

Fingers closed on something deliciously soft and frayed at the edge.

He held it up, eyes widening.

It was his shirt.

“Save a Horse…Ride a cowboy,” his voice came out around a rough laugh. There was no mistaking it, checking the frayed and faded tag. A rough skull was still just barely discernible. Once written in thick black sharpie with pride. He had loved this shirt. 

_Long black hair, spilling over the pillow. Soft dark eyes meeting his. The wonder of what they had just done lingering on sweat soaked skin. Laying in his tiny room back in the shitty hotel his gang was staying at. His prince lightly kissing his battered hands. They had gotten into a fight together, jumping on anyone that had dared to call them queer or faggot. The streets were their domain in youth, making out in arcades and exploring each other in back alleys. The weeks had dragged out to months._

_He rolled over, trapping his prince below him. His mouth on his neck, breathing in the sweet scent that clung to him. “Tell me your name, please.”_

_“I can’t,” slender fingers were in his hair. “I wish I could.”_

_“You'll forget mine when I leave anyway, guess its fine,” he huffed but unable to keep from kissing that feverish flesh. He wandered down a lithe chest, nuzzling over the beautiful dragon tattoo._

_“I’ll never forget you,” a soft moan, the arch of his back brought their hips together. The sheet a poor barrier to the youthful hunger they shared._

_“Liar,” he chuckled, but in his heart he knew it was true. They would end. He would go back to the desert to die in the dirt and sand. Hanzo would go back to that high walled home and be what he had to be._

_“Don’t insult my honor.”_

_“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he groaned, taking his prince’s nipple back into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the hardening peak._

_Hands tugged at his hair, adding pain to the pleasure of gently grinding into his lover. Their hips sliding together as his love wrapped his legs around Jesse’s narrow waist. The sheet sliding away as they began to grow heated and needy._

_“Give me something,” a panted request, nails leaving red marks down his back, “to remember you by. Give me your shirt.”_

_The well loved t-shirt being dragged off his back at the same time as his cock met the prince’s, lightly rutting above him. He just laughed, letting the prince steal his favorite shit without regret. Every time he looked at it, the prince would be reminded of him, of their time together._

_“What do I get in return?” he panted, hand between them, wrapping around them both._

_“Something you can’t ever lose.”_

_“And what will that be, love?”_

_Teeth sank into his shoulder, vicious and possessive and desperate. They broke the skin and he bit back a yell. The blood trickling to fall on a pale chest with a winding dragon tattoo._

_“You'll always be mine,” arms wrapping tight around his skinny shoulders. “I’ll never forget you…”_

_“I love you.”_

 

_-_

 

_Hanzo was frozen in place, watching Jesse leave from somewhere outside himself. Heart thundering, racing to a staggering beat. No, no, don’t leave, he tried to raise his hand, the crushing weight on his chest stealing his strength._

All the air had been sucked out of the room. “S-stop,” it came out as a whisper, rough with unshed tears. The door slammed shut, Jesse’s footsteps retreating down the hall. He fought to get up, having trouble breathing. The world spiraling as he hyperventilated, struggling to calm down. He had to do something. He couldn’t let this happen, everything screaming that this was not the way it was supposed to be.

He had found the only man he had ever truly loved only to lose him again. He had fucked up his chance, thrown it all away just like he always did. As soon as someone good came into his life, he had to fuck it up

Thunder rolled outside, flashing of lightning bursting outside the window. 

The pattern tightening around his throat, cutting off his reason and dissolving into a panic. It was over. He couldn’t ever make it up to Jesse. The man had only ever loved him and treated him with tenderness.

Where Hanzo’s treatment had been rough and hard, an abusing pace that spiraled them into passion and violence. Tears leaked through his fingers, trying to block out the reality of what he had done.

What his silence had done. What his lack of strength had done. He was a coward. 

_Fight, for fucks sake fight,_ the urge rising up, a spirit deep within him. Something truer than the anxiety, from deep in his heart. If he just let it happen, it would keep happening. He would keep running through the cycle of heartbreak and lose and isolation. 

Nothing would change unless he made a change.

He staggered to his feet, dizzy and uncertain but moving. The hallway was empty, front door left open. He ran to it, Jesse was gone. 

He swore, not stopping for his keys, for his shoes, running for the stairs. He took them in leaps and bounds, skidding and sliding with a reckless abandon. He had to catch him, had to tell him how he really felt. Beg for forgiveness and throw himself at the man’s feet. It couldn’t end like this.

The door to the parking lot burst open, slamming against the wall and springing back. It clipped his shoulder but he didn’t stop.

_Where is he?_ Hanzo spun, wildly looking over the luxury cars for that familiar beat up pickup truck. It was no where to be seen. The rain was falling heavily, sky tortured by wind and lightning. A spring storm sure to tear through the town.

Desperation shook his chest, forcing him to run. Just to run. To find Jesse, to find his truck and make him stay and talk and kiss that stupid sad mouth until he smiled. Looking frantically for the truck, for a sign of the man in his ragged flannel and worn out jeans. He skidded on the wet sidewalk, looking over the street for a parked truck. He broke into a run, picking east, maybe he would still catch him. Maybe he could flag down the truck as he left. He couldn’t accept this but as he reached the end of the block…he knew it was too late. He had frozen and ruined it all. 

He sank to the ground, head in his hands as he sobbed. He was just a broken, scared man who couldn’t do anything right. He struggled to breathe, body chilled by the rain. He could barely feel it, the overwhelming heat of panic burning him up.

He started as a warm voice called out, over at the man that had spoken. He was soaked to the skin, clothes clinging to every inch. Hair plastered on tan skin and a broken smile threatening to collapse at any second. He had duffle back, held loosely at his side. 

Ugly sobbed wracked him, forcing him over. The tears flooding like they never had, heart staggering. “I’m so sorry… I’m…” he lurched to his feet. “Jesse,” the distance between them stretching out. He was on the other corner of the street, but it felt so much farther. Thunder rolled and crashed above them. The street was full of rushing water, dirty and foil from trash and grime of the city. 

Tormented brown eyes found his, narrowed against the downpour. The ache leaping from one heart to the other, tangling in their throats. His feet were heavy, rooted to the ground. “I”m sorry,” he yelled over the storm, something growing in his chest, throbbing against the anxiety. He wouldn’t let this happen. He wouldn’t let Jesse leave. 

This time he would fight for his cowboy. This time he would not let them be torn apart.

 

-

 

Realty snapped back into place, the memory rushing away in a stream of tears. How could he give up so easily? Hanzo was not the same young man he had been then and neither was he but the love between them had been real. As brief and feverish has it had been, those 3 months had stained his skin forever. Even the heartbreak and danger that thad followed him for years had never been able to make him regret what had happened. 

Pulling the collar of his shirt to the side, he looked in the visor mirror. The mark was still there, faint under his deep tan. A perfect bite mark faded with time.

Laughter bubbled up, hysterical and he slapped the stirring wheel. The shirt pressed to his wet cheeks and mouth, breathing in the scent of Hanzo Shimada. It was familiar, prickling in his throat.

He couldn’t give up so easily. He couldn’t just run. He had to fight, lay it all on the line.

The rain beat heavily on his shoulders, soaking the shirt clutched in his fist as he ran back towards the apartment complex. The truck abandoned where he’d parked it to think. Boots splashing in the rain, ignoring the lightning flashing dangerously above them.

Fire burned in his lungs, heart lurching into high drive like he was running into a fire. The fear the same, unsure if they would make it out of this alive. But he couldn’t leave it to burn itself out.

He charged down the sidewalk, ignoring the traffic flying down the water soaked road. He had to get back to the apartment, he had to fight for this love. He wouldn’t let his prince be taken from him. He wouldn’t go without a fight, wouldn’t run away with his tail between his legs.

Curtains of rain blurred out the world, softening the harshness of modern architecture and washing the streets clean. He stumbled to a stop as he rounded the corner, Hanzo Shimada sinking to his knees by a rotten fence. Head in his hands, sobs drowned out in the pound of the storm.

He wasn’t sure how he found his voice, not sure if Hanzo could even hear him. The man was on his feet now, staggering like a drunk. His feet were bare and bloody from running over asphalt and cement.

Hanzo was yelling something, lost in a boom of thunder, hands waving erratically in sheets of pouring rain.

Jesse ran into the street, every fiber of his being aching for the touch of the other man, to finally find each other.

He never saw the car sliding in the rain, brakes locked up and screaming as it took the turn too fast. The flash of brilliant light shining on Hanzo’s horrified face the last thing he saw before everything went black in an explosion of pain.

 

-

 

Terror overwhelmed Hanzo, whiting out every other feeling as Jesse’s body flew through the air. The screaming and shriek of brakes not registering, paralyzed as his love crashed into the pavement, rolling to a stop on the curb. 

_No, no, no please, god, no,_ he broke free of the moment, running to his fallen cowboy. Something red in the road next to him. A tshirt. His shirt he realized, using it to staunch a gout of blood pouring out of his chest. So much blood, it kept coming, swept away in the rain. He could hear screaming and the panicked voices of a family as they swarmed around. Someone was talking to dispatch for an ambulance. He couldn’t think of anything but Jesse, watching the ragged rise and fall of his breathing. 

It was growing more labored, eyes still closed. Hanzo begged for mercy in his own tongue, crying out to let this not be the end. It couldn’t end like this, not like this. The shirt was hot in his hand, the life energy seeping out of it stealing away the man’s heat.

“Open your eyes, fuck, Jesse please, please don’t leave,” he snarled, ugly and wild like an animal, shaking his love. If only he would open his eyes, if only he would wake up. Sirens rang in his ears, the blaring of a horn clearing everyone away but he remained, holding onto him with all his strength.

Hands gripped his arms, trying to drag him away. He lashed out, striking an EMT but another grabbed him. He was hauled away, thrown to the side walk as a familiar face loomed over him. “Shut up and stay back,” he was given another shove as Jack ran back to Jesse’s body. The EMT team a flurry of activity, vaguely familiar faces blending together in the down pour.

“Hanzo,” Angela was at his side, pressing a clean towel into his hands. “Hanzo what happened? how long has he been out?” 

He stared blankly for a moment before snapping out of it. Of course she would have been called. “Can you save him?”

“I don’t know, I’ll be in the operating theater when we get to the ER. How long as he been out? Has he been this way since it happened?”

He nodded, fear bubbling up his throat, filling his mouth. He couldn’t speak as she ran back to the mess, going to her knees among the other EMTs. He could only sit and watch them try to stabilize him, getting him on a stretcher and into the back.

Jack swung into the vehicle, waving Hanzo to come. He had never moved so fast, leaping into the truck and at Jesse’s side. There was a deathly pallor under the rich brown skin, breathing a weak gurgle. 

“Is he going to make it?” his fingers laced through rain slicked ones.

“Too soon to tell.” Jack’s face was grim, looking his years for the first time. “Just pray.”

Hanzo had no gods to pray too, putting his head down on the cold plastic next to Jesse’s uninjured side. There was just a desperate hope.

“I’m sorry… about everything.” the strain in his voice made Hanzo look up. There were tears in the older man’s eyes, clouding the blue. “I shouldn’t have tried to force you together. But…” a hand ran roughly over his face. “Angela realized… that he was your cowboy and we… just wanted you to be happy, for both of you to be happy.”

“You knew?” he couldn’t believe it, heart lurching into his throat. “How?” he held onto Jesse’s hand tighter, as if he could anchor his soul into his body.

“Genji showed her a picture from when you were both young men,” Jack rested his head back on the side of the vehicle as they sped through the city. “She knew Jesse back then and recognized him. It wasn’t hard to figure out the rest from what Genji told us about… what happened to the both of you.”

Hanzo stared, jaw slack as it all tumbled together. The strange obsession the couple had with forcing them to be around each other, trying to get them to remember who the other was. Hate welled up in his heart. “Why didn’t you just tell us?” he yelled, startling the silent EMTs riding with them.

“We wanted you to finally deal with your shit, Hanzo,” Jack barked, slamming a fist down on his knee. “we wanted what was best for you and Jesse!”

“He might die, Jack,” he held onto Jesse’s limp hand, “because you had to play your little games.”

“It wasn’t like that!”

“You could have told us, instead of playing with us!”

“Shut up!” a new voice cut in, deep and lushly accented. “This is not place for fighting,” the large pink haired EMT gestured with her chin to the unconscious man. “He would not want his friends fighting.”

Hanzo’s anger withered, leaving him cold and small. He put his head down, pressing Jesse’s hand into his cheek. “Please hold on.”

 

—

 

Everything happened so fast once they made it to the hospital, everyone having a job to do but Hanzo. He tried to follow as they rushed his love down the hall but he was stopped by a large nurse. He could not go into the operating theater. He fought and yelled and insisted but they pushed him out to the waiting room with the threat of police escort if he couldn’t behave.

It had been 8 hours and there was no word. He was numb, aching in the hard plastic chair in wet clothes. His cellphone killed by the water, a brick beside him. Pain radiating out from his stomach, gnawing at his insides. There was no escaping the worry. Jack had sat with him for a while but they had not spoken, waiting for news. He was called back to the fire station and left with a pat on his shoulder.

It was a lingering point of warmth in the icing hospital. The rush of patents a blur as some where swept down the hall and others left to scream and ache around him. It was a hell of sterile lights and the acidic reek of vomit on dirty carpet and scuffed linoleum. 

“Brother, you need to change into dry clothes,” the somber voice drifted down to him. He found his brother easing him out of the chair. “Zenyatta is getting us some food.”

He went along like a zombie, letting his brother push him into the family restroom. “Angela called me and told me what had happened. I came as soon as I could. Get this off,” he tugged at the wet shirt.

“Thank you,” Hanzo fought against the numbness, getting undressed and putting on the warm clothes. Oversized sweater and sweatpants, thick socks and house shoes. “I… it was my fault.”

A sharp slap nearly knocked him down, slumping against the tiled wall. Sharp angry Japanese flooded over him. //Don’t you fucking dare. Don’t you fucking dare give in to that guilt when Jesse needs you. he needs you to be strong. He wouldn’t want you wallowing in self hate and this bullshit.//

Genji was out of breath, glaring down at him.

“Thank you…” Hanzo managed a smile, leaning into his brother. “I… I needed that.”

“Now get yourself together and let’s pray Jesse pulls through the surgery.”

 

—

 

The hours trickled by, Zenyatta joining them with food. They tried to keep from thinking the worst, every minute weighting on them. Jack stopped by to see how they were doing but there was nothing to be done. Angela was able to slip out, dark circles under her eyes.

They straightened as she came over, scrubs wrinkled and crumpled. She sank into a chair across from them, hands wringing together. “He has a punctured lung and 4 broken ribs, his chest cavity is filled with blood. He has a concussion.” her voice wavered. “It’s still touch and go.”

 

-

 

Hanzo was the last one awake. Genji’s head laying on his shoulder and Zenyatta curled up in his chair. The ER waiting room was almost empty, late night nurses walking through on their way on their rounds. A janitor mopped up down the hall. He couldn’t sleep, waiting for news.

It came just before dawn, the doctor coming out and finding them with weary eyes. 

 

-

 

Jesse wandered through a desert, violent oranges scattered as far as the eye could see, mixing with dusty purples along the horizon. The sun was fat in the sky, but it wasn’t warm. Chill aching in his bones as he walked over sandy hills. He wrapped his serape tighter around him, cold oozing out of his chest.

Roses falling in his wake, petal by petal the garden of his heart leaking out. He put a hand to it, trying to stop the flowering in his lungs. They forced into his throat, choking him and bursting out of his mouth.

They tasted like metal, like the barrel of a gun. He coughed, blossoms scattering away on a gust of wind. He tried to catch them but they danced out of reach. The pain spiraling under his ribs and breaking through in a riot of color. He fell into the sand, standing at the sky above him. The stars suddenly out. They were too bright, too close as if he could reach out and grab the diamonds out of the blue velvet.

_Jesse_

He looked up into the cosmos, rooted to earth by the flowers pouring out of him in streams.

Everything went dark again.

He wandered through scenes of the past and bizarre jumbles of his subconscious. The pain followed through all of them. The flowers cut off his breath.

The ache slowly easing as the nights and days ran together in his mind.

And then, he was awake. His limbs tingling back to life, coming into himself to the beep of machines and the scent of disinfectant. Too bright lights burning his eyelids and he groaned, covering his face with a hand. His head felt like it was full of sludge, struggling to understand where he was.

God he was fucking tired. He couldn’t lift his head, letting his eyes wander over the hospital room. Normal machinery like he would expect, monitors and readouts blinking at him. 

There was only one thing that was warm and alive.

“Hanzo,” his voice came out a weak rasp. The man was asleep in the chair next to him, head resting on hospital bed. Their hands were tangled together. “Hanzo,” he tried again, wondering how long he’d been out. The IV in his arm dripped steadily with the golden glow of nanobyte healing technology. 

“You're awake,” Hanzo’s hand tightened in his. “Oh thank god, you do you feel?” 

“Like I was hit by a truck.”

“Luxury car actually.”

He laughed, wincing immediately. The stab in his chest not just in his dream. “Shit… guess that’s what I get… running into the street without looking.” He looked back to Hanzo, eyes softening. “How long have I been in here?”

“6 days, you almost died, Jesse,” Hanzo was sitting on the edge of the bed now. Those warm dark eyes filling with tears. 

“Shucks hon,” he reached up to brush one away with his thumb. “Couldn’t… couldn’t leave when we were just bout t’have a talk finally.”

“You stupid, stupid man.”

Jesse laughed, wincing again but it was worth it. “C’mon Hanzo…,” his fingers trembling as he reached up to caress his prince’s cheek. “Can’t have you crying… I’ll start crying too and m’ribs can’t take it.”

There was a wild look in his eyes, fingers scrambling in his chest and up to his throat. “You almost died. I watched your body fly across the street.”

“But I didn’t,” Jesse grinned, heart starting to pick up. Hanzo’s warm chest pressing into his side. “I’m… I’m still here.”

“God, thank god,” Hanzo pressed his tear stained face to his throat. “I…I’m so sorry Jesse. I was just so scared.”

“Shh…” he wrapped an arm around him.

Hanzo wiped roughly at his face, looking exhausted with deep purple marks under his eyes and greasy hair piled in a bun. He hadn’t showered in days, that much was clear. _God, he looks like shit,_ it filled his heart with warmth. Hanzo Shimada looked like a pile of shit because he’d been at his side the whole time.

“Just lay here with me, Hanzo,” he wrapped him up in his arms, soaking in the heat of his body. It was always so cold in hospitals. And he wasn’t going to let go now. “Just listen…” maybe it was the pain meds or just exhausted to everything else. 

“No, no you listen,” Hanzo’s lips moving against his throat. “I never forgot about you.”

“I know…”

“It’s all I had t’hold on to you,” kisses along his throat made the beeping pick up. “It’s always been you, always.”

 

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Jesse ran his fingers through Hanzo’s now clean hair, sunlight warm through the window. He had been there every time he’d managed to push past the medically induced sleep. The heat pressing into his side keeping him anchored to the present. Hanzo had slunk into bed after the last night shift nurse had made her rounds, an arm carefully around his waist.

The smell of moss and oak drifted to his nose as he shifted through Hanzo’s hair. He had loved it when it had hung past his shoulder blades in youth. It was even more charming now as a shoulder length bob, curling at the ends. Streaks of silver at the temples and peppered through the black.

It had been easier with Hanzo against him, easier to make it through another night in the cold, sterile place. The bitter scent of antiseptic and plastic masked by the warmth and smell of his old love.

Dark lashes twitched against his creamy cheeks, looking more at peace than he had ever seen him. Jesse couldn’t stop from smiling, his bruised cheek aching. It didn’t matter, nothing mattered but the new chance they had. 

There was a soft knock at the door and then Angela was slipping in. The gold of her hair was dull and matched the exhausted look on her face. Jesse quickly nodded towards Hanzo and raised a finger to his lips.

She rolled her eyes but shrugged. Her voice was low as she picked up his chart. “You should be discharged today, the nanobot technology has been more successful than I hoped. You have been treated with it before?” Jesse nodded, “Hm, makes sense with your history of bad luck.” She flipped through the chart for a few minutes, the frown lines softening around her mouth. “You should be discharged later this afternoon, Jesse.” 

“Thank god, i’m going crazy here,” he smiled weakly, “and these gowns are hard on a man’s pride.”

“You will need to take it easy though, young man,” she patted his arm. “you’ve been through a lot,” her eyes darted to Hanzo’s sleeping form. “you both have.”

“i can’t believe… he’s really here.” His heart fluttered, making the steady beeping pick up. Angela frowned at him. “Did you really know all this time?”

“I had my suspicions for a while but,” she eased to sit on the edge of his bed. “I didn’t want to tell you in case I was wrong. We just… wanted you to figure it out on your own and if not, go on a few dates at least, maybe hit it off.”

“you were trying hard t’get us together,” he chuckled, wincing as it strained his ribs. “I can’t say I didn’t appreciate the thought but I think it’s best t’keep things on the level from now on.”

“I agree,” she squeezed his hand. “Do you need a ride home? My shift gets over at four today. Though you can leave sooner if you have a ride.”

“I will take him,” Hanzo lifted his head, bleary eyed. 

“Good to see you awake, pardner,” Jesse carded his hand through his companion’s messy hair. “i would appreciate the ride home.”

Hanzo leaned into the touch, arm tightening around Jesse’s waist. The possessive squeeze sending a flush of heat down his chest. He turned away for a moment, willing his dick to behave. He had almost died a week ago, now wasn’t the time to rush into things with Hanzo. He wasn’t sure where they even stood. 

“I will take care of him.”

“Very well,” Angela sighed, tapping her pen against the clipboard before sliding it into place. “I can see you are in good hands, Jesse.” She bowed her head to Hanzo, “Hanzo, just let the nurse at the front desk know you are leaving. I’ll clear it.” she pulled out her datapad and clicked away as she left the room.

The silence pulled out between them like molasses, Jesse just looking at his hands resting against the hospital gown. “How long you been awake, Darlin’?”

“About 15 minutes,” Hanzo tucked his cheek against his chest again. “I did not want to wake you.”

“still as nosey as always.”

“Unfortunately true,” the chuckle was contagious, “but we can talk about my faults later. Are you ready to go home, Jesse?”

“I would kill t’get out of this gown and into real pants.”

Hanzo laughed, boisterous and loud, head thrown back. 

The sound filled his chest with light, pushing away the lingering pain. It was easy to get up with Hanzo supporting him. His legs felt like jelly and the hospital air was chilly on his bare ass. He caught Hanzo leaning back to try to see. “you’re terrible,” he huffed but he couldn’t help the heat bubbling up in his groin.

“perhaps,” Hanzo helped him into the bathroom, bringing his bag in a moment later. Jack had dropped it off yesterday. “Do you need help dressing?”

“No!” Jesse yelled, but he couldn’t hold the teasing against him. It was fun, easing the tension between them. “I can do it just fine. don’t want the first time you see me naked again t’be helping me get dressed.”

“So I will be seeing you naked at some point?”

“Get out!” he closed the door, leaning against it to smother the breathy laughter. Hanzo hadn’t changed in one regard, he was still as hungry as always. But this time, there was a tenderness in the teasing. It made his heart race more than any of their vying for dominance had. He fumbled with his jeans, having to sit down to get them started. He hoped the spinning in his head was just from his injuries. 

He pulled the shirt up that Hanzo had brought, grinning as he pulled the tags off. “ Really, Hanzo?” he yelled, dragging it on and taking a moment to try to flatten his bed head.

“It seemed to fit you.”

“It’s a little big,” he looked down at the shirt, loose around him, not pressing on his bandages. “but i love it.”

“If you can’t handle the sass, you can’t handle this ass,” Hanzo’s voice drifted under the door, warm as honeyed whiskey.

Jesse blushed harder, opening the door and shuffling out. “Sweet of ya t’buy me a shirt, could have just gotten one from my house.”

“I saw it and thought of you,” Hanzo was leaning against the doorframe, sweater pulled tight across his broad chest. “It looks good on you.”

“Well, thanks hon,” he straightened, beginning to feel more like himself again.

 

—

 

Hanzo poured another glass of wine for himself and a glass of water for Jesse. The little apartment was cozy he decided, if a little cluttered. It was different than the last time he’d been here, fighting through the terror of a flashback and the overwhelming knowledge that he’d found the man he had once loved. It had been three weeks since the accident and McCree was almost recovered.

“Was dinner to your liking?” he asked carefully, sipping from his glass. The boxes of chinese food were scattered over the coffee table. Both the men lounging back on the couch now. Hanzo’s feet were tangled with Jesse’s legs. He rubbed it casually up and down a muscled calf. 

“It’s not the only thing I’m liking,” Jesse waggled his brows before popping a bite of orange chicken on a fork into his mouth. The color was back in his cheeks, maybe even a little flushed but Hanzo hoped he was responsible for that.

“I do not believe you are well enough for dessert,” He smirked, brushing his toes higher along Jesse’s leg. The sweatpants sliding along with the movement. 

“I’ve got quite a sweet tooth though, Darlin’,” Jesse’s eyes drifted closed, head tilting back. The column of his throat begged to be kissed. “I could just eat it right up, ribs be damned.”

“Do you need another dose of painkiller?” Hanzo shifted forward, picking up the prescription bottle and turning to read the dosage instructions.

“I don’t think so, feeling pretty good, just a bit stiff.”

“hmm, do you want to lay down?”

“might help,” Jesse grinned, trying to shift lower on the couch. Hanzo got to his feet to give Jesse’s long legs room unfold. He stooped to start packing away what little food remained. He was contentedly full himself. 

A hand hooked into the band of his slacks, yanking him back. He tumbled with a yelp, knocking the orange chicken container on the way down. He tucked in his elbows, not wanting to hurt McCree but he didn’t land on him. Firm hands guided his hips down, suddenly laying along Jesse’s warm body.

“Im not hurting you, am i?” he tried to pull away, rising up on his elbow. 

“Just lay here,” a steady arm eased him nearer. A hand cupped his cheek and Hanzo was captured by warm brown eyes. “please, just lay here with me.”

“alright,” Hanzo managed, heart fluttering wildly. Jesse shifted and Hanzo found his legs tangling deeper, warm thighs rubbing together. 

His fingers spread over Jesse’s chest, touching lightly at the warm skin above the v neck shirt. Words bubbled against his lips, simmering with the anxiety that he was going to mess this up. The tension simmering buthad not boiled over the last weeks.

“Shh, stop thinking so loud.”

“okay,” he swallowed. Jesse’s hand was rubbing along his back, finding where his shirt was rucked up. a soft sound of pleasure rumbled in his chest as callused fingers drifted under his shirt. The soft scratch so tender, so gentle it made his heart ache.

“I’m sorry,” he squeezed his eyes shut tight, pressing his face into the heat of Jesse’s neck. The bigger man pulled him tighter, hand guiding their hips together. “i’m so sorry for how i treated you back then, I hated myself, i hated who i was and—“

“Shh, Darlin’, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” he tried again, tears threatening to overflow. “I… i hurt you.”

“I wanted t’be hurt.”

“that doesn’t make what I did, how i treated you excusable.”

“I forgive you,” hot kisses pressed into the top of his head. “I forgave myself, i know i was doing myself harm back then but i loved you still.” fingers threaded through his hair, a rumble against him offering comfort.

“I can’t forgive myself.” His fingers fisted in Jesse’s shirt, fighting the urge to withdraw.

“I forgive you,” Jesse’s warm mouth ghosted over his forehead, leaving a trail of fire. “I forgive myself. I want you, I have always wanted you.”

“I want you too,” he whispered, swallowing the sharp pain in his throat. His head was spinning but his heart knew what he really needed.

“So… where does that leave us, Darlin’?” Jesse pulled back slightly, nudging his face up with a hand. “Cuz… i gotta lot of healing left t’do.”

“I do as well,” Hanzo managed a smile, raising a hand to scratch his fingers through Jesse’s wild beard. They understood each other in that moment, the scars on their bodies and minds different but the same.

“so… i’ve been dying—“

“literally.”

“that’s not fuckin’ funny,” Jesse laughed, twisting them so Hanzo was suddenly straddling his hips.

“Sorry,” he fought the blush on his cheeks, fighting the urge to shift lower. “I could not resist.”

“Nah, I thought it was funny,” Jesse’s large hands were on his thighs, rubbing up and down. “You always could make me laugh.”

“I am an expert at humor.” Hanzo spread his fingers over his companion’s broad chest, careful of the mostly healed area. “When I have such an easy target.”

“Shucks Darlin’,” Jesse raised a hand to cover his heart, near where his ribs had been broken, “you’ve struck me straight through the heart.”

They shared a chuckle, the warmth filling the empty apartment with a breath of life. Hanzo leaned down, pressing his forehead against his one time lover’s. “I never miss, what about you, gunslinger?” He crooned, a hand resting on his jaw, thumb brushing over his bottom lip. 

“I’ve got you right where I want you.”

“Is that right?”

“mmhmm.”

Jesse thrust up and Hanzo gasped, choking on a moan as a thick cock ground into the cleft of his ass. “Fuck!” he curled forward, whimpering at the sudden stimulation. “Jesse… Jesse warn me before you start. Ah!” he yelped, bracing his weight on his hands, one on either side of Jesse’s head. “Jesse, you haven’t been cleared for this by your doctor.” He pressed his eyes closed, struggling to calm his breathing and the ache growing in his groin.

Jesse’s hands pinned him in placed, forcing his legs wider apart as he was dragged down. The searing heat of the bigger man’s erection burned against him. A low whimper broke passed his lips, startled by his own fierce reaction. But god it felt so good to be held tight and close to someone that desired him. The thick promise of pleasure pushed into his ass, clouding his mind. The haze of lust drawing over him, his mouth forced open by another low moan. 

“I…I see you are,” he whined low in his throat as Jesse used his hands to rock his hips back into his lap. “no longer a bottom,” he struggled to find words with the blood rushing to his hardening cock.

A hand left his hip to cup his face, pulling him down. “I’m anything for you,” Jesse pulled his mouth down for a tender kiss, the sweetness melting them together. 

He tasted his cowboy, the memories overwhelming him but this time it was gentle. The meeting of their mouths a current of emotion, parting softly to taste and taste again. Hot breath gusting over him, mouth tasting of oranges and soy sauce. A need burning inside him, clawing it’s way to his throat in a rush. 

 

—

 

Jesse ached, his chest too tight and his heart too full. He needed more, more of Hanzo’s smooth skin against his. His hand greedily caressing over a powerful back, the grind of his lovers ass overwhelming his senses. The hunger growing more demanding, blinding out the pain in his ribs as he bucked into Hanzo’s ass.

“Hanzo, you feel so good,” he pulled him down for a deeper kiss, lips crashing and tongues fighting for closeness. For more of each other, to devour and be consumed all together. 

“Jesse, we can’t,” lithe fingers ran over his cheek, a counterpart to the burning heat of desire. 

“Why not?”

“You will hurt your ribs.”

“Not if we’re careful.”

“Jesse,” the warning in his tone making the big man huff. He didn’t want to think about his injury and how close he had come to dying for real. It had been by chance he had survived at all. It scared him, holding onto the creature full of life above him. Even if Hanzo was huffing and puffing and telling him to be reasonable.

“Can’t help it,” he rested his head back on the coach arm, “you’re a tall drink of water and I’m dying of thirst.”

“oh Jesse,” a flurry of laughter came from Hanzo’s flushed lips. “you are ridiculous.”

The heat burning between them surging, rocking his hips into Hanzo’s with raw hunger. “You like it. and this McMonster i got.”

“You’re so obtuse,” the golden chuckle poured straight into his heart, Hanzo’s smile a million watts. “It is most charming.”

“Well if I’m obtuse it’s only cuz you’re ‘a-cutie’,” he waggled his brows, watching the deadpan of Hanzo’s face with glee.

“I suppose we are… different but complimentary angles. You idiot.” 

Jesse’s hands found Hanzo’s cheeks, pulling him down for another languid kiss. His tongue sweeping in to taste sesame and garlic. A burst of laughter broke them apart. “You taste delicious,” Jesse ran his thumb over the man’s bottom lip before claiming it between his teeth. Hanzo whimpered, an instinctual rut grinding their pressing erections together. A groan forced between his teeth, hips thrusting up to hold Hanzo in the air.

Hands grabbed at his chest, bracing as the smaller man fought for purchase. “Jesse, you’ll buck me off!” His cheeks were flushed and chest heaving.

“Mm, buck to get you off.”

“Jesse.”

“Baby i want to make you feel so good,” he needed to hear Hanzo moan his name. The searing burn of his body below him and hot skin to skin. He twisted, ignoring the smaller man’s breathy laugh, and pushed him deep into the couch. “I’m gonna make you moan till your throat is raw.”

Hanzo whimpered, legs pressed towards his chest and opened around Jesse’s hips. The hardness rubbing into his stomach. 

“What is that?” he purred, grinding in with a powerful stroke. Hanzo’s mouth opened silently, arching up to meet him. The cold of the smaller belt buckle burned where his shirt rode up. “Tell me how I make you feel.” His mouth found the curve of Hanzo’s neck, kissing hot flesh in that old spot.

Hanzo jerked under him, head thrown back as a small strangled sound broke free. A swear in Japanese bubbling out after it. He tried to tuck his face away. Jesse attacked the delicate spot just at the joining of neck and shoulder, tongue lapping firmly and chasing the heat with a firm bite.

a fountain of japanese mutter burst out between sharp breathes. His face was dark red, delicate hairs around his face sticking in a shine of moisture. “you like it when i do that? you always did love a little pain,” he smirked, not breaking away from the sweet skin. Hanzo’s hands scrambled across his back, nails digging in. 

the pain drove him on, setting the pace as he rocked into the smaller man. Cock painfully hard as it slotted against Hanzo’s, need for friction overwhelming. Hanzo dragged at his shirt, pulling it up to expose his back. He rocked in again and again, folding Hanzo up as the cushions bounced him into each thrust.

“J-Jesse, Jesse i want you more,” the words were hot and wet, panted into the meat of his shoulder. 

“Baby, i need you,” he hooked his arm under Hanzo’s back, dragging him hard into his hips. “Can I take you? I want to feel you around me, i want to come undone with you.”

Hanzo’s eyes were sparkling with tears of overstimulation, nodding even though his legs didn’t unlock from around Jesse’s hips.

Possessive joy snarled through his chest, making it ache. He wanted his Hanzo, to be with him again after all these years, after all the shifting realities of trauma and distance. His love was an ocean, overflowing and pushing back rivers to entangle into every fiber of Hanzo he could reach.

The nod was all he needed, scooping the smaller man into his arms and carrying him to the bedroom. The plants that had come with get well soon cards filling the room with brightness and life, clutter and trash cleaned away.

 

—

 

Hanzo bit back a whimper, clinging to Jesse for dear life. His head swam with pleasure and need, clawing Jesse’s broad back as he was taken to the bedroom. The smell of flowers cutting through the musk of his lover. he peeked over a broad shoulder to see the arrangements, reminders that their friends cared. 

A jolt sent his heart racing again as he was lowered onto the soft bed, legs forced apart. He let them fall with little hesitation, trousers painfully tight. Ass clenching in eager anticipation. there was no one else he would ever let have him this way. He had never taken anyone else, taking the safer option, to be the one forcing himself in and losing himself in the demanding beat.

The sharp intake of breath gave him away as Jesse climbed between his legs, hands pressing his inner thighs up. “I have wanted to taste you for so long.” Hanzo squirmed as Jesse lowered his head, kissing down his covered chest. His long body sliding tantalizing over his groin. He couldn’t control his breathing, overwhelmed as Jesse’s thick tongue swept over his nipple, rough through the fabric.

“A-ah,” he covered his mouth with his hand, embarrassment radiating through him. Jesse grunted in response, animalistic as he sucked a nipple to a stiff peak. Hanzo’s fingers twisted in that wavy hair, holding his love in place.

“you so sensitive,” a dark chuckle rumbled against his nipple before his grip was broken and Jesse was slathering his other nipple before lightly biting. “So pretty like a songbird,” the crush of a heavy body bounced him on the bed, pressing against his ass so tight. “I want to make you sing all night.”

He moaned breathlessly against Jesse’s neck, shaking at the promise. “Please… Jesse, touch me.”

The man grinned, capturing his mouth with heated kisses, slow and long. His chest was tight with need, stomach clenching as he tried to get closer.

Jesse broke away, panting as he fumbled in the bedside drawer. The lube and condom fell to the sheets as he climbed back onto the bed. Hanzo couldn’t stop smiling, starting on his belt. 

“No,” His hands were dragged away. “Don’t.” Thick fingers trailed down his chest, stroking over the cut of his hips to the leather belt. So close to where he needed to be touch. The zing of metal coming undone burning his ears as the buckle was undone and the leather hissed past fabric.

Jesse tossed it aside with a gleeful look, diving in the next second. 

It made him laugh, covering his face as Jesse playfully nuzzled down his stomach. 

“i love it when you laugh, i want to hear it everyday,” Jesse kissed down his happy trail, making him shiver. “and other sounds.”

Hanzo couldn’t stop them as his leaking cock was covered by Jesse’s mouth through his pants. The lap of his tongue sending him reeling, hips jerking up into the heat. “Please,” he was coming apart at the seams as Jesse continued to lovingly cup his balls and lick along his length still trapped.

He couldn’t wait, yanking the fly of his slacks, popping the button. Jesse laughed, pulling back to help with the zipper and tug down the pants. Their shirts went next and Hanzo sat up in a fury to claw Jesse’s sweats down. His hard cock sprang free, bobbing against his abs. 

“Heh, haven’t done laundry yet…”

Hanzo gulped, eyes falling hungrily along the thick length. his mouth watering as Jesse climbed back between his legs, cock bobbing with the movement. Thankful prayers in Japanese tumbled from his lips before his boxer briefs were yanked down. They caught on his hard ass and Jesse lifted him off the bed with one hand. The muscles in his broad chest and arms rippling in the sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains.

He reached down, a moment of shyness overtaking him. He wasn’t so thick or quite as long and he hadn’t trimmed his dark hair. “Oh baby, no need for that,” Jesse pressed in, kissing him softly at the same time his hand started stroking him. “You’re the most beautiful man i’ve ever met, Darlin’,” he whimpered, every muscle trembling as firm strokes swirled pre-cum over his hardness. “I know how good this cock feels inside me, all my holes.”

“J-Jesse, when you, talk this way,” he struggled for breath, gasping as the cap of lube popped somewhere above him. Slick fingers started on his cock again, gentle and strong. “I’m… please,” he couldn’t think in english, babbling in his native tongue when a warm, slick finger pressed against his hole. He hadn’t taken anything bigger than his own fingers in years and Jesse’s were far thicker.

His body was dissolving into pleasure, vibrating around the spiraling pleasure. “Jess, i…please,” he panted, mouth filled with Jesse’s tongue. The hungry sounds he made devoured and gulped down between heated gasps.

 

——

 

“I know baby, i know,” Jesse bit at his lips and neck, sinking his finger deeper into Hanzo’s ass. It was tight, clenching and fluttering around him. “you gotta relax, baby focus on how I feel,” he slowed his pace, kissing lightly up and down Hanzo’s bare chest. The swirling Dragon tattoo, stealing his attention for a moment. He started and the swirl above his left breast, mapping it with the press of his mouth and flick of his tongue. The memories of their past at the back of his mind but he didn’t feel the crushing depression, not while kissing down the dragon to its head at the man’s wrist. 

His pulse was rapid, fluttering under his lips before shifting back to the start. he swept his tongue over a hard nipple, swirling around the little nub of nerves. His hand stroking Hanzo’s leaking cock while his first finger sank to the hilt. The heat and tightness whiting out his mind, the need to have it almost more than he could stand.

A second finger slowly eased in, urged by the scratch of nails down his back and the panting whimpers of his lover. He started to part his fingers, teasing open the tight ring of muscle. Lube generously slathered over his asshole and pressing in to prepare him.

“Jesse, please! I need you,” Hanzo begged, bucking into the press of his fingers.

“Baby, you’re not ready.” It killed him not to fill his Darlin’ to the overflowing with his throbbing painful cock. “I don’t want t’hurt you.”

Hanzo threw an arm across his face, mouth open in a steady stream of needy sounds and broken mix of english and japanese. Somehow his control held as he added a third finger and more lube, working him open as he found that perfect spot. 

The grunting scream nearly sent him over the edge, needing more to keep from coming unglued. He lowered his mouth, lips kissing the angry red tip of his cock before parting to take him all in. The salty warm flavor sending his head spinning, bobbing on the delicious cock with fervor.

Hanzo’s asshole was sloppy around his fingers, squelching as they rocked together. He couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything but the need for closeness. The need to be together with his lover and find bliss in each other, to connect deeply and spill over the edge as one.

“Darlin’,” Jesse panted, pulling off Hanzo’s cock to catch his breath. “baby I need you so bad.”

“fucking, fuck,” Hanzo reached up to grab fistfulls of his hair. The pain sending a spike straight to his cock. “Fucking fuck me you stupid fucking cowboy.”

“Yes, sir,” he grinned, tempering the feverous need with soft kisses as he got a condom on and lubed it thoroughly. He lined himself against Hanzo’s sloppy ass, rubbing the leaking head over it again and again, not pushing in. Hanzo bucking down the bed, trying to get the thick cock inside him. “mmm, here it comes, baby just relax,” he eased his hips down, head pushing against the ring of muscle. There was a long moment of resistence, kissing his way over Hanzo’s cheeks and squeezed shut eyelids. “baby, it’s okay… stop me if it hurts, stop me for any reason,” he crooned, gentle caress of his lips easing the tension around Hanzo’s eyes. “don’t let me hurt you.”

“You’re not,” Hanzo whimpered, tightening his legs till it almost hurt. “Push, please i need to feel you, i don’t want to cum until you’re inside me.”

Jesse’s fragile control splintered, sinking his cock in with a slow thrust. The pressure was intense, dizzying as the head finally pushed inside. Heat and tightness wrapped him up. He just froze, shaking with his weight on his elbows. His head swam, eyes watering as he held back the thunderous climax hammering at his core. 

“move, fuck, Jesse.”

Everything disappeared into hunger and desire, thrusting deep to seat himself. Their bodies merged in a mess of heat and lube. Nails scratched viciously down his back to his ass, dragging him deeper. He started to rock, swirling into Hanzo’s willing body. He pressed his face into the flushed skin of his neck, rutting with his whole body in wild abandon. 

The slap of skin and muscle filled the room, loud between gasping breathes and jumbled words of adoration. Japanese pouring into his ear, his name mixed in and punctuated but teeth sinking into his shoulder. The scar blushing redder and redder as it was repeatedly assaulted. He couldn’t hold on for long, pulling Hanzo’s legs up and folding him at the hips to reach deep inside. A muffled scream encouraged him to thrust harder, hitting Hanzo’s prostate again and again. He held on by a shred, hand fumbling down to Hanzo’s slicked cock. He started pumping it in counter point to his thrusts.

“Hanners, Darlin’, i’m… i’m not gonna last much longer.”

“Cum, cum with me,” Hanzo scratched down his back, leaving angry welts.

He felt the tightening in his guts, the coiling pleasure in his balls, his thrusting becoming erratic and sloppy. “Fuck, baby, Hanzo, I’m going to -“ his voice broke off into a primal yell, crazed thrusts all instinct as he curled into his mate. He had to claim him, to make him his own, he needed all of him as he spilled into the condom. hIs vision going black as everything crashed over him.

Hanzo’s voice rose with his, back arching and bucking wildly and cum spluttered across Jesse’s hand in thick ropes. It smeared between their bodies as Jesse’s hips thrust weakly, riding out the pleasure for all he could, stroking Hanzo. His hands were pushed away, Hanzo’s voice a needy whimper. There were tears in his eyes, threatening to spill over and Jesse forced himself to stop completely.

“Hanzo?” his voice ragged, weight settling onto his elbows on either side of Hanzo’s shoulders.

“i’m fine,” slender fingers stroked over his hot cheeks and face. “I…it is too good… i can’t take any more.”

“Good,” Jesse’s arms were trembling holding himself up, his heart pounding. He slowly pressed against Hanzo, covering him. Heated chests rising and falling in tandem, seed smearing in his happy trail. He didn’t care in the least, placing tired happy kisses over every inch of Hanzo’s face he could reach. “please stay the night… please just stay with me?”

He felt the laugh bubbling up in Hanzo before he heard it. Fingers dragging his face up and sealing his lips with a kiss. Lazy and deep, encouraging him to explore. When they broke apart, they were both breathing heavily again.

“I will not be going anywhere, Jesse McCree,” Hanzo shifted beneath him, rolling him to the side. He pulled out carefully, watching a grimace pass over Hanzo’s face. He worried he might have gotten carried away as he tied the condom off and tossed it in his bedside trash.

“you promise?” he crooned as he crawled up beside his lover, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“This time, I will fight for you.” 

“I’m not losing you again.” he gently kissed the dragon tattoo, body heavy and sated now.

Hanzo wrapped him up now, pulling him tightly to his chest and tucking his head under his chin. Jesse chuckled, liking the reversal of their positions as he nuzzled that gorgeous chest. And they knew, deep in their bones, that this time the story would have a different ending. There was no danger outside the door. No hate hammering to get in. The bliss they shared would be theirs and theirs alone.

The dreams that held them close, soft and sweet and full of something they had not known in years.

Peace.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An epilogue may be coming but here we are, at the end of my first fanfic. I cannot thank all my readers enough for their comments and support through the process. I truly hope you enjoyed and that you got something out of this.
> 
> hit me up through AO3 or on tumblr at McHanzoTrashBin https://www.tumblr.com/blog/mchanzotrashbin
> 
> And i'm not sorry for the terrible pun/pickup line.

**Author's Note:**

> Want more McHanzo trash? You can follow me on tumblr for fanart and illustrations. https://www.tumblr.com/blog/mchanzotrashbin


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